


The Lighthouse

by sempaiko



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Idiots in Love, In Universe AU, Journal Entries, Lighthouses, M/M, Sappy, Slow Burn, Zeb POV, artwork included, excessive use of kriff and karabast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27945965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempaiko/pseuds/sempaiko
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…The Republic is thriving and expanding. It has been many years since the Empire has been dissolved from it’s 10 year reign, leaving the galaxy in a state of peace and expansion. Many have already begun to start new lives in the wake of the once-rising turmoil.After years of service, Garazeb Orrellios has retired from the Honor Guard on Lasan to be a wildlife researcher of the newly-charted systems of the Unknown Regions. Encouraged by the Lasat spiritual leader, Chava, he sets out for adventure to explore the edges of wild space.On the small planet of Ahch-To, the Lasat often frequents the Waystation Base located there, manned by a mysterious Coruscanti human known only as Kallus. The two develop a strange friendship that seems destined by fate; if only they both believed in that…
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 94
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my dear HixyStix for being my beta and my moral support and just being an awesome person! I would also like to thank Anath_Tsurugi for the name (and lasana) for Zeb's ship. Also special shoutout to 'all the cakes' shippingandrecieving for playing with me in the 'lighthouse' AU.

* * *

* * *

Zeb's ship, the _Raskithahn Dansirana_ , settled into the atmosphere with a sharp jolt. The planet Ahch-to greeted him with a turbulent welcome. The gray skies, thick with storm clouds, pelted the hull with rain that could have been mistaken for meteorites.

The seas below, covering the entire planet, were dotted with islands, big and small, all across the horizon. The small juts of green and black were the only indication of what separated the surface from the sky.

A solitary yellow light blinked on his planetary navigation display, marking that he was headed in the right direction to the one and only contact point on the planet. The waystation went by a long and official Republic designation but all the people who had told him about the sector had simply called it Way One.

The dense rain and winds fought Zeb's small ship as he quickly approached the yellow blip, and before he knew it, a dark tower appeared through the deluge.

"Karabast!" He barely had time to dodge out of the way of the tall communications dish set atop the structure. In fact, he wasn't too sure he _hadn't_ nicked a bit of it.

Zeb was a fierce warrior, a former Honor Guardsman and a soon to be adventurer, but a good pilot he was not.

"Whew, that was a close one. Hope no one saw that."

As if to answer him, his comm cracked open:

"You almost took out my dish!" an alarmed voice squawked, along with the proximity alarms echoing in the small cockpit, reminding him of the near miss.

Zeb fumbled to course correct in the storm and circle back around, all while looking for the button to the comm unit.

"The goal is to fly _towards_ your target, not _at_ it." The panicked tone of the voice seemed to have leveled out from before and was now just an angry, smooth baritone.

His big finger found the button, finally. "Sorry 'bout that. _Almost_ is better than _actually_ though _,_ right?"

There was a loud sigh. Zeb found it amusing the person had deliberately been sure the comm was open to relay the sound before adding, "Landing platform A is open and illuminated… _Raskithahn Dansirana_.”

Zeb didn’t have but a moment to appreciate that the man did not butcher his ship’s name. In fact, it almost caught him off guard hearing the pronunciation roll off the person’s tongue correctly.

“Do try to _actually_ land your ship properly,” the voice continued, “and mind the porgs."

Click.

"Well that was some hello," Zeb grumbled. "What's a porg?"

Landing was still difficult, even with the glow of the landing lights beckoning him closer. A floating droid escort even came out to hover about like an insistent insect to help guide his ship.

A bustling space port, it was not. The drab gray durasteel of Way One was reminiscent of Imperial make, with sharp angles and flat surfaces jutting upwards from a rocky island, where several red-lit spires and one big satellite dish pointed to the stars.

Currently, he was the only ship on the docking platform. The area was a thin but sturdy halfmoon cut, a couple stories up from the choppy shoreline. The waves hitting the dark stones were white and foamy, stark and visible even through the downpour and fog.

Zeb leisurely began to do his ship housekeeping; checking the fuel systems and his supplies and aligning his communications to the Waystation fully. The meager hyperspace charts of the Unknown Regions showed a vast area of newly charted, but greatly unexplored, systems across his display. A grin stretched across Zeb's face. He couldn't wait to get out there.

He didn’t need any food or rations, he had plenty of those packed to the brim in his galley cabinets. Besides, waystation food tended to be overpriced and dull, and Way One didn’t seem the type of place to have the wide variety a trader’s outpost or other station would have.

With all the charts updated and communications aligned, there was really only one other thing to do.

Making his way back to the cockpit, Zeb gingerly buzzed the main comm channel. “Hello again, this is the _Dansirana,_ the one on platform A.”

The answering click was almost instantaneous. “Yes?”

“I just thought I’d just check in with you, since I will probably be frequenting here a bit. See I’m going to be doing some explorin’ into the Unknown Regions. Seeing what kind of wildlife is out there.”

Zeb smiled and looked up through the viewport, the blinking red lights of the spires and dish partially veiled by the rain. He imagined the man, or whatever manner of being they were, to be up there perhaps looking down.

A long stretch of silence lingered into the awkward territory.

He rubbed his neck, surprisingly nervous all of a sudden. “Anyway, uh, I’ll be relaying broadcasts through here to reach the holonet. Nothing too big, just little docu-diaries of the beasties I find. Thought I’d give you a heads up ‘bout that.”

Finally, the deep voice was back. “Understood, that shouldn’t be a problem, _Dansirana_."

Another pause followed, and just when Zeb was sure that the conversation was curtly over…

"That is unless someone actually _does_ take my dish out when trying to land their ship.” There was a bit of teasing humor in the smooth timbre, Zeb noted, and he huffed out an acknowledging chuckle.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he echoed and closed the comm on his end.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Here I am. Garazeb Orrelios. Honored soldier. Retired Guardsman. Adventurer? Fighting for and with allies, defending, that’s what lasat are known for. We’re good at it. Our kind don’t do much traveling or exploring. That is, except for old legends. Used to be said that a bo-rifle could be used through the Ashla to navigate the way through the galaxy, even Wild Space. Some have even speculated that Guardsmen used to mean Guidesmen in the old tongue. Chava the Wise says as much, and she has been my biggest push to do… this. I dunno what Chava expects me to find out here, but she is a bit crazy. Then again, maybe so am I.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Zeb flew into the atmosphere of Ahch-to, a week later, the weather was much improved. This time rain wasn't obscuring his view of Way One, but a heavy fog was. The communications array and dish still blinked their red lights through the mist as he approached. This time, he made sure to make a wide arc around the tower.

His planetary clock synched to Way One, and Zeb noted the time was very early in the morning. He wondered if the same person was manning the waystation from before, or if there was a rotation of people.

Zeb's ears flicked forward at the familiar timbre that came from the speakers of his comm unit.

"Platform A is open and illuminated, _Dansirana_ ," the same voice from before spoke warily into the comm, sounding like they had just woken up.

Zeb was, once again, the solitary ship on the platform as he touched down. He wondered how often that happened here, on this small planet on the edge of nowhere.

"A much improved approach than the last time," quipped the voice over the comm, sounding more awake.

Zeb tapped the responding button deliberately. "Last time there was a bit of a storm, if you remember."

"How could I forget?" the gravelly drawl came and Zeb smirked.

The accent made Zeb think the person was from a coreworld, Coruscant perhaps. The amorphous blob in his mind formed a general human shape as he thought more about what they looked like.

"I could use some fuel. What's your price ‘round here?" Zeb asked.

"This is not a fuel depot. But if you would like to purchase from the reserves here, you are more than welcome. I'll transmit the prices."

Zeb winced when he saw the extra digit on said prices. "You're practically robbing me, you know."

"Premium prices for a valuable commodity. If you don't like the price, there is a spaceport a few jumps from here with much better rates."

"Fine. But only 'cause you're so pretty," Zeb said sweetly.

"You don't even know what I look like."

"I can just tell." Zeb had found since leaving Lasan, he had become a bigger flirt than he had ever been before, when he was among his own kind. It was an easy way to break the ice, especially when you looked every bit the part of a dangerous predator to the rest of the galaxy.

"My droid will be out to connect for the fuel. You can pay him." The voice didn't sound amused or phased by his attempt. "And mind the porgs."

Porgs. He hadn't caught a glimpse of these whatever-they-were the last time he was here.

"Right, thanks," Zeb replied and there was a small buzz as the comm shut off.

He waited a moment in his comfy, custom built chair, thinking about the conversation just now. Next time, he'd be sure to catch the person's name; a name to go with that voice would be nice, after all.

Eventually, he ambled his way from the cockpit down to the lower level of his ship, where the ramp doors opened to the salty, misty air of the planet. It smelled like iron-rich minerals and green seawater, a stark contrast to the sulfuric tang of the last planet he had visited.

The fog was thicker once he was finally cutting through it in person. As he stepped towards the general area of where the waystation structure was, his ears twitched as he heard the faint skittering of something alive, followed by a trilling call.

Near the nose of his ship he saw them. At first they just looked like mottled blobs in the opaque haze, but chirps and ruffling soon revealed pudgy little avian creatures. They had huge black eyes and white, downy underbellies.

Zeb tapped at his wrist holorecorder and pointed it at the porgs, getting close enough for the device to pick them up, but far enough away not to spook them.

“I’ve been told these are called porgs. Cute lil bogans, aren’t they? Seem mostly harmless.”

Zeb danced his big fingers at them and they skittered a little bit away before going about their business, which seemed to be scuttling around the base of his ship. They were milling about the entire platform in fact, their impossibly black eyes little blinking dots through the fog.

“Actually, they seem kinda friendly. They may not have any natural predators, since they don’t know to be scared of me -a big ol’ purple hunk of muscle and claws. I bet I can even pick one up…”

Zeb cupped his hands under the feathery bottom of one of the porgs and began to gently lift it up. The creature gave a curious chitter, and thick wings flickered against his knuckles, but made no other motions to escape.

“There you are!” came a low, synth voice from behind him.

Zeb dropped the porg.

He absolutely did _not_ find it darkly amusing that the animal made an alarmed squeak when it hit the ground unceremoniously, it’s orange legs in the air. The small group of creatures near him promptly scattered away.

“Karabast!” Zeb spun and saw a dark gray protocol droid with a rounded head right besides him. He shut off his holo recorder. “Don’t do that!”

“Do what? My _job_?” the droid asked sarcastically, with a nasally verbalization. “I’ve come to initiate the fuel transaction on my Operator’s behalf.”

“Operator.” Zeb frowned at the name and looked up into the sky, but Way One’s top wasn’t even visible through the fog. “What’s their name, by the way? Your _Operator_?”

The droid seemed hesitant, and maybe a little perturbed, he wasn’t sure. Droids were hard reads sometimes, being metal and all. “He’s Kallus.”

“He’s callous to you?” Zeb asked, confused why the droid was telling him that.

“No,” the droid sighed, “Kallus. That’s his name. K-a-l-l-u-s.”

“Oh-”

“ _I_ am AP-5,” the droid droned on, whether Zeb was going to say something or not, “and if we could continue this transaction now? I’m a very busy inventory droid, with many tasks I need to complete.”

Zeb looked one direction, then the next. Even though the fog was so thick, he still knew he was the only ship on the platform. Eyeing the expectant AP-5 up and down, he finally pulled out a chip with the credits inside. “Just gimme the fuel already.”

He wondered if he could get the droid to give him a brief description of this _Kallus_. Then again, the droid had _many tasks_ to complete, and sometimes a little mystery never hurt anyone.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I think Operator Kallus is human. The blob he occupies in my mind is certainly human shaped. Humans are very common, it wouldn’t be too big of a stretch to think that. They're all over the galaxy, so why wouldn't there be ones here in the Unknown Regions? He doesn't have an unusual voice or a voice modulator. His Basic is clear and definitely mastered. So I think it's safe to assume he’s human. Maybe I’ll ask the droid the next time. Or maybe the next time I’ll catch him in person. Then again, maybe he doesn’t want to be seen. A porg is unafraid on land, I observed, perhaps due to no natural land-predators, or the fact they travel in groups, and there’s always strength in numbers. The Operator out here, practically nowhere, hiding away and alone… what predator did that?


	3. Chapter 3

Zeb spent less than a week this time before he needed to come back to Way One to patch a small problem with his landing struts on the _Dansirana_.

The planet he had visited did not have much in the way of life forms, but more than made up for that in interesting plant life. And interesting was putting it lightly. Between the migrating fungi and the noxious fumes of the various trees, the planet certainly was full of surprises.

One such surprise came when he noticed he had landed in a bramble of acid secreting groundcover. Strangely only affecting durasteel and other metals, and not the bare pads of his feet, the acid was slow working, and he hadn’t noticed the damage until it was time to leave.

It was really just the last layer of the struts, and really it appeared to only be superficial damage. There was nothing wrong with the structural integrity, at least from what he could see. Since the planet was a bust anyway as far as wildlife, having only encountered small insects there, Zeb had decided to head back to Ahch-to to inspect the damage better. If he could repair it fairly easily, he would.

It was a clear night, patchy clouds dotting the horizon as he approached.

He looked eagerly at the comm, awaiting landing instructions from Way One. He was beginning to develop a rapport with this Kallus person and hoped to hear the now familiar voice come smoothly over the speakers.

When no instruction came, he frowned. The entire landing area was lit up, every platform illuminated and welcoming. There was also a ship parked on the last platform, the one near the ‘rear’ of the Waystation.

Zeb touched down as best he could on Platform A, wincing when he heard the loud creak of the landing gears as they extended and took the weight of the ship. Maybe they were more damaged than he had initially thought.

Foregoing immediate repair to his ship, Zeb made his way over to the other ship across the platform. There were a handful of droids, including AP-5, and a human unloading cargo off the ship and through the bay doors into the base of Way One.

“Hey there!” Zeb called from a ways back, so as not to startle the human. The man looked up and waved a hand with a piece of flimsi in a friendly greeting. Zeb also didn’t miss the way the human’s other hand rested on the blaster at his side. One could never be too careful out here, he knew, so he didn't judge the reaction.

“Hello there. Don’t see many lasat ‘round these parts,” the brown haired man said with an air of curiosity. The outer rim drawl was indicative that this was _not_ Kallus.

“Yeah, I’m doing a bit of research in the Unknown Regions. Name’s Garazeb Orrelios.”

“Eli Vanto,” the man said and they clasped hands. The human didn’t even flinch or shy away from his huge paw as they shook hands. “Just call me Eli.”

“Zeb.”

“I’m just dropping off some supplies for ol’ Way One here. You?”

Zeb jabbed a thumb back at the _Dansirana_ and replied, “I have some minor repairs to do before I head back out there.”

“Out there, huh? What kind of research do you do _out there_ anyway?” Eli asked.

“Go to the planets or moons and do some holovids of the creatures and animals I find. The Republic charts new systems they discover, but all we see are basic stats. I aim to change that,” Zeb explained and Eli nodded, impressed.

“Ambitious. That’s a lot of space to explore, believe me, I know. My family’s been in the shipping trade for a while off’a Lysatra.”

“Lysatra?”

“It’s on the edge into Wild Space. We’re pretty backwater, I guess,” Eli said with a light laugh, hand in his unruly hair. “That could take a long time, though, it’s a _lot_ of space.”

“So far I’ve been to almost a dozen systems. I’ve broadcast my vids to the holonet a handful of times. Hoping to get some interest, then I won’t be so alone out there.”

“What’s your handle for the vids? I’ll be sure to share with my buddies in the trading routes. Sometimes we have some long jumps, especially when we’re doing Republic runs.”

After more chatting and sharing handles for another few minutes, they were interrupted by AP-5, letting them know the supplies had been accounted for and payment was processed. Zeb was reminded that he had yet to hear from Way One’s Operator.

“Where is Kallus anyway?” Zeb asked, his eyes drifting up the tower once again.

“Not here,” AP-5 supplied.

Eli rolled his eyes. “He’s off doing repairs to a stranded ship that sent out a distress beacon shortly before I got here. He knew I was arriving soon, so he contacted me to let me know he wouldn’t be here to receive the shipment.”

“Oh, alright,” Zeb said. He must have sounded disappointed because Eli leaned forward, eyeing him a little too closely, with a scowl on his face.

“Why? You have business with him?” The human’s earthy brown eyes were still friendly but also scrutinizing.

“Nah, nothing like that. We usually have some words while I’m here, that's all.” Zeb then thought inwardly, _I was also hoping to put a face to the voice_.

“ _Some_ words, huh? That’s accurate. He’s not really the chatty type. Never has been. Bit of a grouch most days, actually.”

“Know him well, do ya?”

“We go back, yeah,” Eli said and for the first time during their entire conversation, the human seemed to close himself off. “Anyway, I should be heading out. It was nice to meet you Zeb.”

“Er, you too Eli.” Zeb couldn’t help but quickly ask, “What’s he -like? Kallus. He human?”

Eli turned back around, a confused look on his face. “Yeah, he’s human. Tall, blond, kinda gorgeous. For a human, that is. Not sure how a lasat would think of him.”

To be honest, Zeb wasn’t sure either.

“Thanks. See you around.” Zeb waved again as Eli closed up his ship and started up the engines. Zeb turned to go find AP-5. “Hey, very busy inventory droid! What’s your price for some new landing struts?”

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Humans. I’ve heard some have said that they are the most dangerous beings in the galaxy. Witnessing first hand what things like the Empire could do, I’d almost believe it. Almost. That’s because, for all their droids and clones and big ol’ weapons, they’re still just… _human_. Take all that away, and what are they? Sure there’s a kriff-load of ‘em -strength in numbers- they certainly are prolific buggers. But most are good folk, when they’re not blindly following behind something, or someone. Met another one today, a human. He wasn’t so bad. Didn’t look dangerous at all; kinda small, kinda ordinary. At least, that’s what _this_ lasat thought of him. Made me kind of wonder though -what I would think of a human like Kallus. “Tall, blond, kinda gorgeous”. _Does_ that even translate well to a lasat? Why am I even thinking about that?


	4. Chapter 4

“Landing platform A is open and illuminated, _Raskithahn Dansirana._ ”

Zeb’s smile broadened. Never had his ship’s name sounded more appealing. The smooth, deep voice of Way One’s Operator -Kallus- sounded through the cockpit, and Zeb savoured the now-familiar sound. He blamed the reverie on being away from another sentient being for going on two weeks now.

There was a downpour of a storm happening on Ahch-to, it seemed. The winds were not strong, however, so landing was easy and effortless. There was simply a blanket of water being poured from the thick clouds above. When the engines powered down, Zeb tapped the comm button.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Zeb purred, unable to switch off his attempt to charm; it had been a _long_ two weeks alone. Besides, he had gone through about a dozen lines during the jump before picking that specific one to say.

“If you are referring to the weather, I can assure you it’s a common occurrence this time of year,” Kallus said, sounding very composed.

Zeb was half tempted to try and take out the dish again just so he could get a rise out of him. The flirting wasn’t quite breaking the ice anymore, he feared. “The last time I was here, it was a beautiful night out. Clear skies, stars out. But _you_ weren’t here.”

“Lucky you.” This time, his voice was _definitely_ moody. "Perhaps next time I won't be here and your stop can be a good one again."

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” Zeb exclaimed, his hand hovering over his comm unit, as if to soothe it into not disconnecting from Way One’s end. It was impossible he knew, but he couldn’t help the reflex. “Was just saying it’s funny that the one time I dropped by and the weather was fair, you weren’t here. Would've been better if you _were_.”

 _Karabast_ , he was fumbling this conversation. Then heard Kallus clear his throat. Perhaps he was just as desperate to move things along as he was.

“Do you need any supplies? That won't be damaged by water, that is. I predict the storm to continue throughout the day," Kallus said, his tone leveling back out to be painfully professional again.

"Not this time. Just doing a big data dump through to the 'net. Hope you don't mind." Zeb fiddled with the controls to start the process.

"It's no consequence to me _what_ gets transferred through. That _is_ what it's here for."

When Zeb didn't hear the click of discommunication, he plowed forward, clinging to keep the conversation going, "So you do it all huh? Maintain the Waystation, and help out stranded vessels out in the Unknown Regions. What else do you do out here?"

There was a pause. "Why do you ask?"

Zeb perked up. Kallus still hadn't disconnected and Zeb took that as a small victory. "Just curious. Must get a bit boring, eh? Just you up there?"

"If you're planning to rob me, I'll remind you this is an official Republic Waystation and crimes against-"

"I don't wanna rob you!"

"I'm also heavily armed and _deadly_ with a blaster," Kallus continued to warn, his voice dropping an octave, and Zeb shouldn't have felt a thrill from that, but he did.

“What about vibroblades?” Zeb really was asking for it, egging him on like this, but he was kind of enjoying it. He even dropped his own tone to match.

“I can assure you, whatever weapon you can imagine, I have wielded it at some point in my life,” Kallus informed him. “Blasters, vibroblades, batons, rifles, bo-rifles, bowcasters-”

“Bo-rifle!” Zeb exclaimed, cutting him off. Zeb immediately looked upwards, where his own bo-rifle lay on its stand directly above his head in the cockpit. He almost never used the beloved weapon anymore.

“Yes, bo-rifles, though I admit it has been a while since I last practiced on one.”

“You sound like quite the warrior,” Zeb said, impressed, but unable to ignore an instinctual warning that went off. A huff of breath was heard over the comm as Kallus made a grunt ruefully. One of Zeb’s ears twitched forward at the organic noise.

“If proficiency in weaponry is your definition of being a warrior, then think what you must. But I’ve always associated _honor_ with being a true warrior.”

“Honor,” Zeb rumbled, the word heavy but pleasant on his tongue and in his heart. “And are you an honorable man?”

A long silence followed. The rain continued to cascade in heavy rivulets over his ship and down his viewport transparisteel. It was almost peaceful, if it wasn’t for the unanswered question that hung in the air.

“Kallus?” Zeb finally ventured, when he finally had to take a breath. How long had he been holding it?

“How did you learn my name?” came Kallus’ voice once again.

“Your droid.” Zeb was relieved the interaction was still ongoing, even if he had pointedly not answered his question.

“Which droid?” Kallus seemed flustered, the almost-seductive timbre of his voice disappearing. Zeb was sad to hear it go, but he was also enjoying the agitated sharpness it seemed to morph into.

“The dark protocol one, AP-something I think.”

“Of _course_ , AP-5. I’d assign him to inventory for punishment, but he’d probably enjoy that.”

Zeb laughed out loud. Full and hearty; the kind that made his side hurt.

“Was there anything else he divulged about me without my consent?” Kallus asked haughtily.

Zeb was still laughing, wiping at his eyes when he replied, “Nah, mate, don’t worry. Just your name. Though that delivery fella said you an’ him went way back, and that you were _quote_ kinda handsome.”

“Kriff, you talked to Vanto.”

“We didn’t talk long, don’t worry.” Zeb once again gestured at the comm as if to soothe it.

“Obviously Vanto decided to share _more_ than that, it appears.”

“He said you were grouchy too.”

“Blast, that man,” Kallus cursed low, then emphasized, “he shouldn’t have said anything. I prefer my privacy, even my name, and he knows it.”

“I can tell,” Zeb said with a smile, wondering just how embarrassed Kallus truly was. The indicator flashed that his data dump was completely uploaded and now stretching across the vastness of the holonet. “Well, a name is still just a name. We don’t have to be strangers out here, you know.”

“Out here, anonymity may be one’s salvation.” There was something quiet and sad about that sentence.

Zeb powered up his ship, letting those words hang in the air as the engines whined into life. As much as he was enjoying their talk, he could also tell when he had pushed too far. The best way around a skittish creature was to remain calm and aloof when approaching. An outstretched hand too soon could result in an injury, or worse, contact lost.

“By the way, it’s Zeb. _My_ name. It’s Zeb.” He couldn’t help but look up again; up the tower and through the thick rain, the red lights barely visible through the water. Just when Zeb feared the length of another painful stretch of silence, Kallus’ voice spoke again.

“Safe travels, _Zeb_.”

Click.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Had a full on conversation with someone today. I’ve kind of missed that. It can be a bit lonely with no one but myself and some beasties for company. Lasat are pretty sociable. I thought humans were too. This human -Kallus- is grouchy yes, but funny when he wants to be. Dangerous too, apparently. Mentioned he had experience with a bo-rifle. Impressive, but usually the only bo-rifles seen off Lasan and not in the hands of a lasat are either counterfeit or unjustly acquired. I don’t know the circumstances of how this human “practiced” with one, but I’m trying to keep an open mind. Today was not the day to press. I already pressed too much. But it makes me wonder about him, since he didn’t answer my question. Is he an honorable man? Maybe he lost his honor, and that’s why he hides out here. Alone. Anonymous. I think I might have done the same if I had.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few weeks, Zeb had managed to _just_ miss the good weather upon every visit. It was becoming a tradition: sit or work in his ship while he had a short chat with Kallus over the comms, listen to AP-5 complain about excessive rain and his overdue oil bath when he needed fuel or supplies brought to the _Dansirana_.

Zeb never got _much_ conversation from Kallus, but the small snippets he did get were enough to tide him over until the next time. And just before Zeb departed back into the Unknown Regions he got a “safe travels” from the Operator of Way One.

It was nice. It was almost routine. Until the day it wasn’t.

Ahch-to was well into its afternoon, according to the synched chrono. The horizon was free of any clouds and the light blue of the sky was a bit jarring. Zeb didn’t think he had ever seen Way One more clearly, the durasteel reflecting the sunlight off its surface warmly as he circled around.

Kallus didn’t greet him, or say his customary landing instructions, and Zeb felt a pang of disappointment. When he pinged the tower, there was no answer. He could be busy. Maybe he was in the refresher or the sonic. Maybe he was off saving another stranded or disabled ship nearby.

When Zeb approached the landing platform, he almost ran into another ship that was in his usual spot, Platform A. He had to do another circle around the island to come up on the back sector, near the cargo bay doors to the waystation.

Unable to resist stepping out to enjoy the fresh air, Zeb made his way off the _Dansirana_ and took a leisurely walk along the edge of the platform. The porgs were also at the edge, diving off and into flight, and hopping on the shore below and pecking at the shallows between the rocks in search of food.

There was a bit of a commotion as Zeb neared the other ship, a smaller ZH series he was unfamiliar with. Two people were arguing, whoever they were, as they exited. One was a weequay in a long red and black duster type jacket, his arms and voice boisterous.

The other was human, slightly taller than the weequay, the exactness hard to judge, as the human favored heavily on a cane that seemed to support a bum leg. He was dressed in a large-knit sweater and dark gray pants, a blaster in its holster slung across his narrow hips.

As Zeb got even closer, and as the two stepped into the sunlight, he marveled at the _goldeness_ of the human. He had fair skin and his hair was the color of honey, a stylish beard framing a chiseled jawline in the same hue. And although Zeb had seen his fair share of humans, he seemed to stand out to him.

"You owe me a kriffing shuttle, Ohnaka, there is no _karking_ _negotiating_ about it!" the human exclaimed, the spell not broken in the least on Zeb's end. That voice was very familiar.

"My friend, my friend, this is not solely Hondo's fault." The weequay gestured grandly, and caught sight of Zeb as he approached.

The human scoffed, not noticing him yet. "The kriff it is! It was _your_ ship that was stuck in the-"

Ohnaka cut him off to greet Zeb. "What a surprise! There he is! There he is, right before me! My very inspiration to come all this way!"

Then angry, amber colored eyes fixed on Zeb, and he practically _felt_ the moment their gazes locked. Recognition was the furthest thing in the expression on the human's face; fear and surprise briefly contorted the otherwise pleasant features.

Ohnaka continued on, heedless of the sudden tension in the air between them. "This _brave_ adventurer's holos have captured the hearts of so many across the galaxy!"

Zeb wasn't sure he liked the way the weequay crossed into his personal space to throw an arm over his big shoulders like they were old pals. And he especially didn't like how calculating the stare from the human was at the whole scene.

"I have?" Zeb asked, processing what Ohnaka had just said.

"Yes! And he is the reason I was on that planet. I was looking for exotic treasures, you see, just like he looks for exotic creatures." Ohnaka then muttered quickly, "So in a way this is his fault."

"Hey, wait!" Zeb pushed away.

"I kid, I kid!" Then he muttered quickly, "no really, it's his fault."

The spell that seemed to have gripped the human broke and he spoke to Zeb, "you're a lasat."

It wasn't accusatory in tone but Zeb frowned, brows knit in sudden defense. Had he really not known that? "Always have been."

"Of course he's lasat! Don't you watch his holos? They are wonderful! So inspirational!” Hondo Ohnaka exclaimed.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the human flicked his eyes away from Zeb’s direction to land back on the weequay in full force. “I’m not falling for your distraction. You owe me a shuttle. That’s the end of it. No kriffing excuses. If you don’t have me one in a week, then I’m reporting you to the Republic, _pirate_.”

“Yes, yes! I only give you a hard time because I like you, Mister Kallus. I give you my word, as a pira -as an honorable adventurer- that I will return to you what is due.” As he said it, Ohnaka bowed, one arm sweeping forward grandly.

Zeb watched as the human, Way One’s Kallus, huffed and ran a gloved hand through his locks of golden hair. The other hand gripped the cane so hard Zeb’s ears twitched at the creak of leather.

When Ohnaka snapped back up from his bow he dared to place a friendly hand on Zeb’s shoulder again. “You have my word! And this _dear lasat_ , Orrazeb Garelios, will be our witness.”

Zeb rolled his eyes and shoved the offending hand off his shoulder. “This _dear lasat_ -Garazeb Orrelios!- will come after you if you don’t keep yer word. Then you’ll have the Republic _and_ a former High Honor Guardsman after you.”

“Of course! Until next time, my friends!” With that, Hondo Ohnaka spun and let his coattails flutter in the wake of his departure.

Zeb turned back to Kallus, feeling nervous again now that they were alone on the landing platform. “He’s some character, eh?”

“He’s a fool,” Kallus muttered before also seeming to realize they were alone with each other. The silence was a strange call-back to when they had first met, only _this_ time Zeb could actually _see_ the conflict and hesitation on Kallus’ face.

“So, uh, nice weather for once. I’m glad I caught it,” Zeb said, also thinking: _and you_. He rubbed the back of his neck, smoothing the fine fur back down from ruffling upwards. Zeb's heart sank as he watched as that unique face schooled itself into a flat, unemotive shell.

“Does the _Raskithahn Dansirana_ need any supplies or repair?” Kallus asked, cold and straightforward. His gaze redirected itself away from Zeb and to his ship on the other end of the platform.

“No, just a standard data dump. Got a lot of good footage, though, found quite a diverse planet," Zeb said, trying to tread carefully back into casual conversation.

But conversation, casual or otherwise, didn't seem to be on the table. Kallus simply nodded, obviously closed off, avoiding his eyes completely.

"May need a fuel top off too, if the prices haven't spiked," Zeb ventured with a smile, thinking back to some of their earlier encounters over comm. He hoped to stir something, _anything_ from the man.

“I’ll send AP-5 down then," Kallus was abrupt and Zeb got the feeling that if he could have hit a button to cut their interaction, he would have in that moment.

There was a whine of engines starting, and a gust of wind as the ship on Platform A began to start powering up to take off. Before Zeb knew it, Kallus had turned and was walking hastily back to the entrance into Way One, without so much as a farewell. Zeb could make out the hard clack of sound the human's cane made against the durasteel, even over the roar of the engines of the ZH ship besides him.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I have seen some fearsome beasties, and some truly amazing creatures big and small and in all colors of the spectrum. To say a _human_ took my breath away is sayin' something. Maybe it's 'cause we have always talked and never seen each other before but… hmm. Look, I don't have a _thing_ for humans, not normally. They're a bit plain. I wonder what I looked like to him? Am I plain for a lasat? From his reaction, I think I -scared him? I've had to be scary and intimidating being a Guardsman, that's behind me, but did I inherit resting-brute-face? Did he not know I was lasat maybe? Maybe he just didn't put two and two together. I would have thought he knew from my ship's name. He pronounced it correctly and everything on the first try. I guess lasana _is_ a popular naming trend right now. It's an older language, more lyrical, one not all lasat use either. I mostly only used it during my Guardsman years. Kits nowadays don't even learn it in school anymore. Shame, since it's a beautiful language. _Raskithahn Dansirana_ just rolls off the tongue better than _Wanderer of the Deep_.


	6. Chapter 6

Zeb checked the sturdiness of the makeshift fishing line once again as he made sure it was secure enough on the base he had rigged. He gripped the pole and gave it a good shake, the thick metal not giving to any direction.

His ship was currently hovering low, just above the calm waves of Ahch-to's sea between Way One's island and the larger, neighboring one. The bay doors were fully open, bringing in the salty air off the water.

In the distance he could see the waystation, a silver column against a blue-gray sky. It wasn't as sunny as it had been when Zeb was last there; the day he met Kallus face to face. Instead it was still early morning and shadowy, high clouds thick in the atmosphere.

Zeb sat in his wooden chair, the one usually bolted down in his galley, and folded a foot over his knee in relaxation. He pulled his personal comm out and buzzed the local frequency of Way One.

"What do the fish here taste like? Any good?" Zeb asked, looking over to the waystation. He could just make out the small outline of a shuttle on the very back of the platform where the bay doors were.

The response took a moment, but soon he heard a labored reply. "They taste like one would expect fish to taste like."

The sound of a tool and a piece of metal clattered through his comm unit, followed by a cute curse barely audible over the rippling waves. Zeb imagined Kallus elbow deep at work in the busted shuttle Hondo Ohnaka had fulfilled his debt with. Zeb had only caught a glimpse of the wreck as he had circled the landing platform to find a good fishing spot.

"Fishy then," Zeb said with mirth in his voice. It was now very vivid to imagine the way Kallus would probably roll his brown eyes at Zeb's attempt at humor.

Zeb had considered it quite the victory when Kallus had come over the comms, after the perfunctory instruction that Platform A was open and illuminated, to tell him the forecast was looking to be 'very mild' today. If that was an invitation for open communication again, Zeb was going to take it.

"When I first arrived here, the Caretakers of the Jedi temple, the Lanai, gifted me some local cuisine. The fish was the best part," Kallus said and Zeb could hear him straining over something throughout. He wondered, with his bad leg, if repairs were rendered more difficult for the man. But Zeb knew from experience that he would be the type too proud to ever ask for assistance or acknowledge that he was in any way debilitated. In a way Zeb respected that. He only wondered how the human had sustained the injury, or if it was natural from birth. These were questions for another day.

"Jedi temple," Zeb remarked, rubbing at the beard on his chin, smoothing down the thick hairs. He was due for a trim. "Didn't know there was a Jedi temple here."

"From what I've discerned, that is a welcomed thing. They don't mind being hidden from the rest of the galaxy." Kallus had obviously stopped for a break, because his voice was close and clear for once.

"Kinda like you," Zeb blatantly said, and immediately regretted it. Observations like that spoken aloud could result in the cut of comms on Way One's Operator's side.

Instead of a rebuttal, or worse, Kallus ignored the comment. "You know, you'll never catch any fish that way."

"And why's that?" Zeb shot an exasperated glare across the water. He imagined Kallus to be looking right back at him with the same expression. Something about that possibility made his heart skip a beat.

"Your ship's shadow and noise will scare off any potential bites,” Kallus informed him, as if he had the upper ground in a fight. His voice was deep, antagonizing and magnetic; Zeb wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

"You _are_ talking to a wildlife expert here." Zeb countered, not backing down from the verbal challenge.

"Expert," Kallus scoffed. "I _have_ seen your holos now. You rush into danger without so much as a second thought that a creature could kill you. All the while spouting that they don’t _really_ want to kill you."

Zeb didn’t have the time to process that Kallus had just admitted to watching his holovids. “They _don’t_ really want to kill me. Not usually. Most things just look scary and threatening as a defense mechanism for survival. If you don’t see that, then you’re missing the whole purpose of my holos.”

Zeb resisted the urge to bring up his macrobinoculars to see if he could spot Kallus on the edge of the waystation’s landing platform. Instead he squinted and cupped a large hand over his eyes to try and narrow his vision.

“Besides, I’m deep-sea fishing and it’s cloudy out. They can’t see my shadow or hear my engines all the way down there.” Zeb couldn’t help a triumphant smile when there was a sigh over the comm and he heard some more clanking, Kallus back at work in his ‘new’ shuttle.

When the thick filament line on his large fishing pole began to race into action, Zeb’s smile grew. He punched at the control to start the reeling process, pulling and _fighting_ the line back into the spool.

“Big bogan!” Zeb exclaimed and laughed excitedly.

Reeling in the length of line seemed to take an eternity, when in reality it was probably only a minute or two. Zeb had to do a bit of manual spins when the makeshift contraption lost a bit of torque.

“You actually caught something?” Kallus asked, but Zeb had -literally- bigger fish to fry. "Zeb?"

“Little busy!” Zeb dropped the comm into one of the breast pockets on his short-capped jumpsuit. He thought he heard Kallus’ voice continue to try and talk, but the fabric and rustling of his own, muffled the words.

Just as soon as he swore that whatever was on the other end of the line was going to breach the surface, the spin abruptly stopped. Zeb looked at the fishing rod and then to the water, and back again. He tugged at the line, noticing it was still taut. Either the power had died to the reeling mechanism, or the line was just snagged.

"Zeb?" The muted sound came from his pocket.

Ignoring it, he tugged at the line again, with the same results as before. He tried to manually spin the handle, but there was absolutely no give. Must be caught then.

Before Zeb could make the decision to just cut the line, and his losses, a burst of water sprayed into the air and into the ship. Zeb brought up an arm, instinctively, to block the wall of water that doused him. Salt stung at his eyes as he stared in shock as a large, toothy maw filled his vision.

"Karabast!" Zeb exclaimed.

Pearly teeth and green scales undulated up from the ocean; narrow, abundant spines ran along a serpentine back as the monster thrashed _into_ the open area of his cargo bay. The weight of the creature lurched the ship down in a dip, and Zeb had to jump high to grab a hold of the ceiling, lest he be flung right into its searching mouth. His beloved wooden chair was not so lucky as him.

The creature hissed a screech of a sound and slipped out of the cargo bay and back into the ocean. The _Dansirana_ righted itself, the automatic dampeners leveling the ship out again. With a groan and a snap, the pole was wrenched from its mooring, along with the departure of the creature.

Zeb swung with the residual momentum, his strong arms holding him easily as he caught his breath from the surprise. As if waving farewell, the spiny green tail of the sea creature arced into the air as it spiraled back down into the depths.

Zeb held fast to the ceiling for a handful of moments more, watching the disturbed surface of the water settle back down. Only when he released his hold, his feet smacking the saturated bay floor heavily, did he hear his name being yelled. He could also _hear_ the panic in Kallus' voice.

He pulled out the comm from his pocket and spoke, breathless but cheeky, "That wasn't a fish."

"Kriffing - _stars_ Zeb, don't -I nearly had a heart attack!" Kallus squawked over the small comm. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit damp. And my favorite chair's gone." Zeb shook his head, his ears flicking off drops of moisture. "Glad I didn't have any cargo in here. Otherwise it would’ve been breakfast for whatever that was."

"I was warned about a large creature out there, but that it usually resides in the lower hemisphere." Kallus added quickly, "You're really alright?"

"You're that worried about me?" Zeb countered, high off the adrenaline, and braced a hand on the side of the open bay. This time, he saw a tiny figure of white and gold at the very edge of the platform of Way One.

"I was worried _I'd_ have to go fish _you_ out of the water is all," Kallus growled in irritation. But Zeb knew he didn't mean that. He _was_ worried; he heard it still wavering in his voice.

Zeb simultaneously wanted to needle him and soothe that frown he knew was on his face. He may have only seen that face once, but it was one he couldn't forget. Facial hair looked good on humans. Zeb brought the comm stick up, his thumb running the length of it gently.

"If it was fresh food you were in search of, I have plenty here; seafood you don't have to risk your life for," Kallus said through the comm.

"Oh, you asking me over for dinner?" Zeb really couldn't help it. The endorphins firing off eagerly had hold of his tongue it seemed.

"It's not even noon."

That wasn't a no. Zeb bit his lip, tasting salt from the seawater still there. He was about to boldly suggest something when he saw a ship approaching the Waystation. It was a small, old freighter that had an engine sputtering, the steering very erratic. Even Zeb could make that out from this far back.

“Kriffing hells, I’ve got to go see what _this_ is about. Hey, _hey!_ Platform B. _B!_ As in _banthashit_ you -not that one! _That_ one! _Karking-_!” Kallus was yelling before the comm was switched off, presumably so he could holler into the other ship’s comms.

Zeb chuckled the entire way back, even though he was deflated that this probably meant dinner was off the table. He had to touch down on the middle platform, as the damaged ship ‘landed’ over the line of A and B and was unable to move because the engines had decided to die there and then.

He lingered around as much as he could before he had to leave Kallus and the droids to their new task. He didn’t get to have that dinner, but maybe there was promise of a future one left in the air.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
The Waystation planet, Ahch-to is just full of surprises, isn’t she? Fought a sea beast today, a creature of the depths! The planet is mostly water, rich seas between islands, and vast oceans across the rest. I could probably do a whole study here alone. Kinda wanna know more about the Lanai, the native inhabitants, the _caretakers_ -Kallus called them- of the Jedi Temple. But if they don’t wanna be disturbed, I understand. Does Kallus feel _disturbed_? I think I am just intrigued by him. He’s not native, he’s human. Humans tend to go everywhere and blend in, survive, make do. Again, there’s just so many of them. But _are_ there so many of them because they’re so adaptable? They seem so frail, thin-skinned, and like they wouldn’t be able to stay balanced on those tiny feet. At least Kallus has a cane to help him. He seems to fit in here, even though I think he’s the only human on the planet sometimes. Seems odd at first to think of a human on Lasan, among lasat and wookiees. The last time humans were on Lasan was during the Siege, the attempted occupation by the Empire. Those humans were our enemies, ones that we were able to defeat and drive back. Would I think differently about humans if we hadn't won that day?


	7. Chapter 7

It was a good thing Zeb had feet that he could manipulate just as well as his hands. With his injured left arm, operating his ship would have been difficult had he not been able to press buttons and pull the levers and controls with his digitigrade feet.

He had bandaged himself as best he could with the supplies he had. Unfortunately, he lacked high grade bacta; something in hindsight he should have known he might need -out alone in the Unknown Regions among all sorts of creatures.

This one had been what he could only describe as a miniature _blue_ rancor subspecies. Standing only one meter tall, Zeb had judged the rancor’s distant cousin as probably harmless. Besides, rancors -despite what people thought- could be benign and tame creatures by nature. Their reputation of being blood-thirsty, violent monsters was perpetuated by those who meant to use them as living weapons, or at the very least, threats.

Being much smaller, it was unlikely its prey would look anything like a big purple lasat. Zeb was confident the animal was only trying to sniff him, not try to take his arm off. So when fangs had sunk into the meat of his wrist without any warning of provocation, Zeb had no choice but to reel back and rethink everything about getting close. That had startled the mini rancor and with a flurry of curling, long fingers, Zeb had also been slashed across his forearm.

He was due for a stop at Way One anyway. He might as well buy some bacta off Kallus, if he had any to spare, while he did some editing to his holos while his arm healed.

The sun was just dipping behind the boundary of water and sky, a warm glow against an otherwise drab landscape when he arrived on Ahch-to. The light reflected off the tower of Way One’s durasteel and duracrete material with a muted gleam.

Zeb might have been able to admire it more, if a sudden wave of pain didn’t begin to throb at his shoulder now. It was probably the way he was holding his arm, elevated and not resting on anything. His hand and fingers had been numb now for at least an hour.

Zeb’s _spot_ on the landing platform was unoccupied and the lights all popped on when he made his approach. For once, in the last few trips at least, the Waystation was empty of any other ships.

“Platform A is open and illuminated, Zeb.” That was the first time Kallus did not say his ship’s name and just said _his_ name. That was… nice.

But Zeb didn’t have the capacity to enjoy that for too long, as all his concentration had to go to landing the ship without one of his hands. His left leg was bent and his large foot cramped into the space between his body and the controls, his injured arm awkwardly resting against his lower belly. Bending forward to punch the buttons he needed to was even more awkward, his injuries screaming in pain as they were jostled and pinned.

The landing happened. Now, whether it was a good landing was another story. The ship bounced on its struts roughly, and if it wasn’t for the relatively flat shape, Zeb was worried it might have tipped. The jostling made his arm flare with heated pain. He grit his teeth through the bulk of it and walked himself out of the ship, eager for some bacta, or at the very least, some very good painkillers.

“Hey, Kallus,” Zeb grunted into his personal comm unit, the small cylinder gripped tightly in the fist of his good hand.

“Yes?” Kallus asked.

“Got any good bacta in this place? Mine is pretty diluted. I could use something stronger.” Zeb walked to the entrance of the Waystation, a large blast door a ways down from the cargo bay.

“Are you injured?” he asked, his voice concerned.

“Yeah, just a nick on my arm,” Zeb said casually, even if he was in pain.

“I’ll meet you at level 10, take the lift,” Kallus instructed.

Zeb opened the large blast doors by a console station set up just outside of it. Along the edge of the maintained tower he noticed there were a few porg nests tucked in the nooks and crevices all along the base. They trilled at him as he walked past them and into the Waystation itself.

The first floor was a simple, standard lobby, with a mechanical station resembling a front desk where a familiar droid stood. AP-5 was not powered up currently, and was either in standby mode or shut off completely. A couple of MSE droids whizzed past his feet and through a side corridor that presumably led to the cargo bay.

The boxy turbolift sat waiting for a passenger, the doors open and inviting. He got in, hit the button, and waited the few moments it took to slowly take him up to level 10.

When the door slid open, he was greeted with a very stern faced Kallus. In the artificial light, his golden hair and brown eyes didn’t shine as much as they did in the sun, but he was still a sight to see, especially close up.

Kallus had been standing so close to the lift’s door, Zeb was sure his sharp nose was practically touching the surface before it had opened. The frown on his face only deepened when his eyes swept the length of his body and landed on the injuries.

“Kriffing ‘just nicked’ my arse,” Kallus growled and stepped aside to actually let Zeb into the room. His cane’s end clicked on the ground with a particularly hard _twack_ ; a perfect manifestation of his grumpy mood.

"Only a flesh wound really," Zeb insisted, but Kallus only scoffed as he went to a sealed cabinet.

The room was obviously a low tech medical center, with beds and equipment out in a cramped but organized state. The cabinets that lined the entire perimeter of the wallspace were closed and sealed, each with their own code-entered locking mechanism. There even seemed to be a medical droid, but it was powered down.

Near the far end was an exam table with stools around it and Zeb was directed to sit there and lay his arm out on the cold surface.

Kallus went on the opposite end and plopped down a bacta go-box; a professional grade first aid kit for injuries bigger than a mere cut or burn. Zeb watched as Kallus set his cane on the surface of the table and settled into a stool, his arms easing the rest of his body down.

“Dare I ask how this happened?” Kallus began to peel off the makeshift bandages Zeb had quickly thrown around his arm and wrist. Zeb was not watching Kallus work, however; he was watching _him_.

Silken hair the color of rich, sun dried grain fell forward into his vision, brushing the tops of his cheeks. A faint, curious marking dotted his fair skin, more prominent across his nose. His beard was thick and smooth along his jaw, and trimmed nicely around his mouth and chin. Pointed, sharp eyebrows, articulate and expressive, clearly showed his cross mood. Light, amber brown eyes flicked up expectantly and their gaze locked.

Oh right, he had asked him something, hadn’t he?

“The lil bogan just wanted a taste of me,” Zeb said, looking down at the damage now that the old bandage was off and Kallus was cleaning his blood, fresh and dried from his fur. He winced at the sight and the sting of the disinfectant being used. Kallus’ fingers, poking out of some well worn fingerless gloves, were steady and precise, if a little rough.

“Sooner or later something was bound to seriously injure you. I’m frankly surprised it took this long, what with your cavalier style of approach,” Kallus said, his tone perturbed.

“Could be his eyesight was bad, and the only way to explore something is through teeth and taste. He didn’t mean no harm, not really,” Zeb explained.

“Doesn’t matter whether he _meant_ it or not, you were still hurt, and that is not something that should ever be acceptable.” There was a distinct shift of tone at the end of that. Suddenly things were much softer in the room; the lights, the pain, the way Kallus looked.

Zeb swallowed dryly. Any flirtatious remark he might have had died on his tongue. In fact, he almost felt the need to apologize for making him worry. But that died a different death, one filled with the thought of rejection.

Then he felt a rush of cool relief as Kallus applied the thick bacta gel to his wounds. It was quality alright, nothing compared to his meager stores meant for minor cuts and bruises. Kallus carefully laid bacta sealing strips on the length of his wounds, starting at his wrist and working up his forearm. Already the pain was fading and the numbness of his fingers leeching away, tingling at the tips.

As Kallus reached forward to lay a strip up his forearm, Zeb’s hand got tucked into the knit fabric of the human’s large, beige sweater. It was scratchy at first but still soft, pliable and spongy and _warm_. Loose threads tickled his knuckles and he caught a bit of the fabric between his fingers and twiddled idly with it as Kallus continued to work, unaware.

The garment seemed to swallow the man, which was saying something as he was no frail creature, even with the bad leg. He was broad shouldered and tall for a human, and he was pretty sure he was fairly muscular under that sweater. He remembered Eli’s words from months ago.

Tall, blond, kinda gorgeous. For a human, that is.

For a lasat too, apparently. _This_ lasat. And that realization should have shocked Zeb, being one who had never looked or pursued anyone outside his own species before, but it didn't.

Kallus leaned back, finished with his work, and Zeb almost snagged a claw in a loop of yarn on his sweater as he pulled away. Zeb found his voice enough to say, “thanks mate, ‘preciate it.”

“I’d tell you to be more careful, but adventurer _Garazeb Orrelios_ wouldn’t dare to think that, now would he?” The words might have been sarcastic, but Kallus sounded more resigned than upset. Zeb’s ears tingled with the sound of his full name being said in that polished accent. Kallus _had_ watched his holos if he knew how to pronounce it correctly like that.

“I’ll be more careful,” Zeb promised, an internal _for you_ on the tip of his tongue. “Can’t use up _all_ your bacta now can I?”

“At least not until I can requisition more.” A small smirk tugged at the corner of Kallus’ mouth as he cleaned up the table. The bacta was cool but the rest of Zeb was very, very warm.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Finally being inside Way One felt like breaking through a barrier. Not only with the Waystation itself, but it’s Operator. I know I made first contact with Kallus a long while ago, but today felt like it was truly the first time I _saw_ him. Did he see _me_ , too? By first impressions, he seemed so averse. When he saw me, saw that I was lasat, he almost seemed to fear me. Some beasties have to use their teeth and mouth and claws to examine something new. They can’t help it, that’s all they have. They may not have sight or smell or feelers. Heh. I’m kinda wondering if Kallus is a bit like that himself. He just needed to use a different approach to explore me, to see me. It’s a good thing I’m patient with the beasties, and even the elusive human on occasion.

* * *

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Even galaxy famous holovidders needed a break from all their adventuring every now and then. This felt especially true on the days they were feeling under the weather.

Zeb was _trying_ to take it easy in his ship, his large bed uncomfortable as he tossed and turned, unable to decide if he was hot or cold. His ship was in need of a good house-cleaning, his sheets and pillows starting to smell old and musty. Or maybe that was his sore nose, agitated and sensitive ever since he first began to feel bad.

He knew it wasn't serious. On occasion, when he went through an update of inoculations to help him fight alien disease and allergens in the Unknown Regions, he would get a small cold. It was a strange side effect, but one that was expected and simply a waiting game for it to pass.

It had been a week since he had boosted his allergen injections, and like clockwork, a few days later he began to feel that sensitive tickle in his nose.

He was usually good about his internal clock not having to synchronize to Ahch-to, as his stays lasted less than a day anyway. Maybe since it was still daytime out, that was the reason he just couldn't sleep.

Impulsively, Zeb reached for his comm cylinder, clicking to buzz Way One.

"Yes?" Chirped Kallus from the other end, sounding hesitant. "I thought you were on your sleep cycle."

"Trying to be. It's not working." Zeb smiled at the thought Kallus was keeping track of that.

"And what do you think I can do about that?" Kallus asked, grumpily. "Talking to me won't get you the rest you need."

While that was true, Zeb continued on. "Got anything in that med bay of yours to help someone sleep?"

"I'm sure there's _something_ in there."

"Good, I'll be right there!" Zeb hopped up from his bed, zipping up his short sleeved khaki jumpsuit.

"Wha-" Kallus began but Zeb shut the comm off before he could hear any protest from him.

It was daylight out, but the sun was muted behind fog and clouds, as Zeb made his way to Way One. The salty air seemed more pungent and made his nose crinkle.

Kallus was waiting on him when he arrived at level 10, a bottle in his hand and an exasperated look on his handsome face. Just under the sterile, chemical smell of the med bay was a more pleasant aroma. Like an earthy forest floor with a hint of floral sweetness.

"Thanks, Kal." Zeb took the bottle and examined the label to be sure there weren't any trigger ingredients bad for a lasat.

"'Kal?'" Kallus repeated.

"Sorry, that just kinda came out. I can go back to saying just Kallus." Zeb popped a couple of the sleep aids in his mouth and swallowed them, handing the bottle back to him.

The pleasant scent from before drifted away with Kallus, and he realized it _was_ Kallus. Or at least something Kallus had been around or had eaten or drank recently.

"No, it's fine, just haven't ever been called that before," Kallus said over his shoulder as he locked up the med cabinet he got them from.

Before he knew it, Zeb's nose led him directly into the knit of Kallus' sweater on his shoulder. He inhaled, searching for the scent from before, getting it and so much _more_.

"Zeb?" Kallus was frozen to the spot, his posture going rigid and tense, practically pinned to the countertop from behind.

Zeb reeled back, embarrassed.

"Karabast, sorry. I'm a bit loopy from this cold. Making my sense of smell go haywire." Zeb rubbed at the back of his neck, scolding himself for acting like that.

"You have a cold?" Kallus asked, though he was still facing the cabinets, a hand gripping the counter tightly.

"Sometimes the inoculants I take make me feel kinda sick for a few days." Zeb cursed inwardly; _and it makes me do stupid things and now it's awkward between us again._ "Sorry again. It -you- _something_ just smelled good. Wanted a better whiff of it. It was kinda sweet, flowery."

Kallus turned around, and Zeb noticed a faint redness on his cheeks. "It's probably the tea I was just drinking."

"Oh! Well it _smells_ good." Zeb also thought _you smell good too._ "Everything has smelled so horrid because of this cold. That's been the first bit of relief I've had."

"I could… make you some," Kallus said, for the first time _ever_ sounding unsure of himself.

"If it's not too much trouble." Zeb again brought his hand up to rub at his neck, trying to smooth down the fine fur that was still sticking up in embarrassment.

"No trouble," Kallus said cordially, but gave him a wide berth as he stepped into the lift.

Zeb joined him, slightly put off by the way Kallus was trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Then again, Zeb couldn't blame him when he had breached his personal bubble like that.

Kallus keyed what looked to be a personal code, and the lift took them up only two more stories to open to a large room. It was circular in shape with large transparisteel windows lining the perimeter of a quarter of the room. The room was divided into what looked to be four sections. One was the obvious control center that operated the Waystation. Consoles, displays and equipment were arranged from ceiling to floor and looked dated but well maintained.

The rest of the expansive room made up living spaces; a galley kitchen with a rounded benched table, a bedroom that barely looked used with an assumed refresher door off of it, and a personal workstation that seemed to double as a workout zone. Zeb noted, with an impressed brow raise, the wall of weapons he had mentioned so long ago. He didn’t see a bo-rifle, and he made a mental note to ask him about that sometime.

Utilitarian as it was, it was still homely, and it smelled as such. Zeb took a seat at the circular bench that wrapped a sturdy round table and watched as Kallus began to prepare the tea in a large kettle.

“Sweetener or milk? I’m afraid all I have is green, and I heard that can be an _acquired_ taste.”

“Just somethin’ sweet,” Zeb answered, blinking slowly as he watched him work, comfortable and sure in his home. He wondered how many got to see this part of Way One, got to see the Operator _at home_.

Kallus set the large kettle, full of that wonderfully scented tea, on a towel in the middle of the table and then went to retrieve two mugs, the thin metal dented near the rims. He sat himself a few feet away from Zeb and poured them both some of the dark red liquid.

Zeb inhaled the scented steam with reverence. His nose stopped tingling in irritation and instead calmed in satisfaction. He sipped next, and closed his eyes to savor being surrounded by the taste and smell of pure comfort.

“Is it that good?” Kallus asked and Zeb didn’t even open his eyes, he just nodded. Kallus let out a soft chuckle, and Zeb might have missed it had he not had his eyes closed.

After a few moments of blissful sipping, Zeb poured himself more and looked out at the other areas of the room. “Got yourself a nice set up. One man operation, eh?”

“I’ve got the droids,” Kallus spoke into his cup just before he took a long drink.

“Besides them,” Zeb said with a slump of his shoulders. Kallus licked his lips before he continued with a frown.

“The edge of nowhere is not exactly a hotspot for activity. There will be days, sometimes weeks, where no one will even stop in orbit, let alone come planetside for assistance or supplies.” Kallus glared over at his quiet workstation.

Zeb didn't follow his line of vision though, and instead kept staring at the way his mouth moved as he talked. He wanted him to talk more. “Most Waystations are _in_ orbit aren’t they? Why’s this one on the ground?”

“Resources. It’s actually much cheaper and safer to maintain a planetside station versus a space station. My dish and orbiting satellites are more than capable of sending and receiving signals just as well as any space station twice the size and with more crew.”

“Hmm. Still…” Zeb led, rousing attention from Kallus.

“Still _what_?” He sounded irked. He _looked_ irked.

“Must get lonely out here. No friends, no lovers...” Zeb rested his chin in his hand, an elbow propped on the table as he watched Kallus look flustered. That pink tint bloomed across his cheeks again, and he gripped his cup with both hands, as if he were going to toss it at his face. By the Ashla, he was _cute_.

And then Zeb knew that the sleep aids were working. Had he really just thought that?

Kallus cleared his throat before speaking. "I make do."

"Oh, make do with that Eli fella maybe?" Zeb prodded, but gave him a kind smile to show he was just teasing. He really _did_ want to know, though.

"That was a long while ago," Kallus replied and Zeb listened in, eager to hear anything about him. It was not often, if at all, that he opened up. "When I was first stationed here we… _made do_ with each other for a time."

That was confirmation enough. Zeb was quiet as he processed this information, occupying himself with drinking more tea. He waited for the other man to continue, perhaps give him a little more background.

"And what about you? You must also get lonely out there, adventuring, all by yourself?"

"Yeah, but at least I'm kept busy with all the beasties. I guess it keeps my mind off of, you know, making do. I mostly just make do with myself," Zeb admitted, though the pang of loneliness did get to him on occasion, and the reminder of that darkened his mood. Maybe that was why he had latched onto a grouchy Waystation operator all the way out here, far from other people and his own kind.

Wait, had he said _he_ _made do with himself_ , as in…?

Kallus cleared his throat again and shifted in his seat. He made no comment on what he said, however, and instead went on to ask, "you don't have family back on Lasan? Bond-mate or kits?"

Zeb noted the correct terms he used for lasat. He'd have to ask him about that later sometime. "Nah, not really my thing. Bachelor's life, and all that."

Even just saying that sounded wrong, though. He did look forward to a day he would have a bond-mate, but war had left him hesitant, even though it had been years since the Empire had fallen. Who knew when he would have to join the fight again.

"Ah," Kallus said simply and broke him from his tired musings.

Just as Zeb was going to suggest he should go, since the sleeping aids seemed to be well on their way to working, a faint beeping alarm came from the opposite corner. Both he and Kallus looked to the workstation.

"Ship coming into orbit," Kallus explained and brought up his cane to settle in besides his right hip and pushed himself up with his other hand on the tabletop.

"You're a popular guy," Zeb teased, his head feeling light and his limbs feeling heavy. "You are tall, blond, and gorgeous, who can blame 'em? Hehehe."

_Karabast! Shut your mouth Zeb! And did you just giggle?_ He asked himself.

The human snorted and shook his head as he made his way over to the Waystation controls. "I guess the meds are kicking in," he muttered as he settled into his chair.

"That Eli said it, not me!" Zeb exclaimed and closed his eyes for a moment. All he needed was a moment to rest them, then he would make the trek back down to his smelly bed.

" _Kriffing hells_ ," he heard Kallus mutter. Then he addressed the incoming ship, his voice back to a droning professionalism. "Platform B is open and illuminated, _Phoenix II._ "

There was a bit of chatter between Kallus and the new ship after that, but Zeb barely paid any attention as he yawned, leaned back and promptly fell asleep where he sat.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I miss home. I miss Lasan. I miss the grassy plains just beyond the Great Forest, the flowers of the Palace, and the colorful shades and stripes of my people. I miss… sex. Karabast, that's crude, and it's not like I was even very popular _in that way_ , even with my Captain of the Honor Guard status. I've always been the runt of the family, short for a lasat, but also -I’ve always thought I should be doing something different. Like I was _meant_ for something different. In another life, perhaps. In this one I _make do_ -heh- with where the Ashla leads. And it has led me here, or at least this is where _Chava_ has said it’s leading me. Here, the Unknown Regions. Here, on Ahch-to. Here, to Way One.


	9. Chapter 9

Zeb had been warned to stay in orbit almost the moment he dropped out of hyperspace. Kallus had practically ordered him not to attempt an entry. But when he had seen the storm that engulfed almost a quarter of the planet, already swirling near Way One’s location, he turned into one stubborn lasat. This time _Zeb_ was the one who cut the comm as he came in for a landing. Kallus was no doubt cursing him out right about now.

He almost didn't make it down, his ship rocking in gusts of wind and being battered with rain and hail. And from what he could tell, this was only the first band of the storm.

He did eventually land on his illuminated Platform A and went through the procedures of locking down and magnetising his landing gears so that the ship wouldn't blow away. Before he left his cockpit, he looked up to where his bo-rifle lay on its stand. Not thinking twice, he grabbed it and then he made his way through the downpour and into Way One.

Zeb was dripping water in the turbolift all the way up to the 13th level, where he was greeted with a very pissed off Waystation operator.

"I _told_ you," Kallus began and lifted his cane to thwack him in the arm, "to stay in orbit!"

"Ow!" Zeb rubbed at his arm and pushed past the human to make his way into the room. "Got a towel?"

"For _kriff's_ sake," Kallus huffed and walked into the kitchen and fetched a fluffy orange towel and threw it at him, hard.

Zeb set his bo-rifle on the table and began to dry his head and face with the towel. It was soft and smelled like that tea he loved, a scent he now associated with Kallus himself.

"Were you planning on blasting your way in?" Kallus asked, frowning harshly at the weapon on his table.

"You once said it had been a while since you wielded one." He hung the towel over his shoulders and held both ends in his hands. "Gives us something to do while we wait out the storm together."

"And _why_ did you feel the need to wait out the storm together?"

"Cuz we're friends. And I wasn't about to leave you down here all alone while I sat up in my ship watching the station get pummeled."

Kallus seemed to calculate this, his eyes searching for something within his own. Zeb wasn't sure if he found what he was looking for, but his angry expression did soften. "Why don't you make us some tea while I finish locking up the tower."

"No prob!" Zeb said cheerily and got to work at that in the small kitchen as Kallus went back to his workstation.

He had seen Kallus make the tea now a half dozen times, so he knew where all the components were, even if he didn't know where anything else was.

He came up behind Kallus' chair and leaned over him to place a steaming mug next to his hand. His golden hair tickled against his beard pleasantly.

He looked at what Kallus was focusing on, which was a camera display of Way One's bay doors, which appeared to still be open a crack at the bottom. He was staring intently at it, wind and water blowing a mess into the bay.

"Uh, whatcha doing there, Kal? It's not closed."

"I _know_ ," Kallus said.

And then Zeb saw it. A flash of white and brown as a porg flitted inside. Followed by three others. Kallus gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief and punched at the controls to close the large blast door.

Leaning on the back of Kallus' chair with one big forearm, he looked at the human from above as he sipped his tea. Something distinctly warm fluttered inside him.

For the first couple hours they were quiet in each other's company, lounging and monitoring the storm. The rain and wind battered noisily against the transparisteel windows, but the sturdy structure didn't even sway in the winds. Before long it was completely dark out as night fell and Zeb stumbled upon an unopened bottle of Corellian Ale while he was digging in Kallus' meager fridge.

It took some coaxing, but Zeb soon convinced Kallus to imbibe with him and they ended up in the exercise section, the human showing off all his weapons. Zeb was just a bit tipsy, and so was Kallus, much to his delight. It was how he had gotten him over here, he thinks. Watching Kallus deftly handle his bo-rifle in his sure hands was an experience.

Kallus had hooked his cane on his belt, and all but stood on one leg as he needed both hands to hold the larger weapon. He was impressed at the human's ability to keep balance with not only a leg handicap but also while he was slightly intoxicated.

He was even more impressed when Kallus shifted the weapon to rifle mode and tucked it against him and raised it as if to aim at a target. His movements were quick and sharp and so _fluid_ Zeb would have thought he had trained with the Honor Guard themselves.

"Where did you learn to use a bo-rifle anyway?" Zeb asked, the question he had had from so long ago finally being voiced.

"I trained myself on one, after a particular mission went south," Kallus said, but appeared to immediately regret it. Their eyes met over the bo-rifle.

"Mission? You fight during the Rebellion?"

Kallus looked stricken, and calmly lowered the bo-rifle to rest at his side. He battled something inside himself and chewed on his lip before looking away. "I fought _during_ the Rebellion, but not on the Alliance's side."

"For the Empire," Zeb clarified, though he could already tell that was what he meant. Maybe he just needed to say it for himself, to hear it for himself. "You were Imperial."

The flood of memories of the Siege on Lasan crashed back to him. Though they had fought and successfully defended the planet, he had lost many of his friends and family in the process. Was Kallus on Lasan? Was he part of the battalions of gray and white that stormed the Palace? Was _that_ the mission that went south? Zeb felt his throat tighten.

"Yes. Though my career was ultimately short lived. After my injury -after I was deemed unuseful by command- I was discharged. _Discarded_." Kallus collapsed the bo-rifle into resting mode and unhooked his cane to walk the few steps closer to him so that he could hand back the weapon.

Zeb took it, still unsure of what he was feeling. But he had to know. "Tell me about the mission."

Kallus reached over where his half-empty glass of Ale sat on the ledge of a shelf. He took a long drink and set it down again before turning to lean against the wall.

"Onderon was in open rebellion, a troubled world," Kallus began. “I was deployed there with my first unit. We were all so eager, so righteous, so believing in our cause. We believed the Empire was bringing peace and security to the galaxy. We were fools.

“We were on patrol, routine, or so we thought. There was a blast that knocked me out and took out most of the unit then and there. When I came to, there was a lasat. He was a mercenary who worked for Saw Gerrera, I later learned. He finished what the initial blast didn’t.

“I couldn’t save them, I couldn’t even move. My leg was shattered, half my body mangled. But he let me live. He let _me_ live but I had to _watch him_. He killed them, with his bo-rifle, and he did it so calmly, through the smoke and fire, like it was nothing but a courtesy, a _mercy_ … but he let me live.” Kallus whispered the last part and there was a heavy silence that followed it.

“ _That’s_ why you acted that way, when you saw I was a lasat -that first time,” Zeb finally said, breaking the quiet moment.

“Yes, and I apologize for that. Truly. Onderon was _years_ ago, but some things just... won’t leave me."

"Some things you just can't forget," Zeb added, knowing all too well that feeling. “So that’s what happened to your leg? The Empire wouldn’t fix that for you?”

“They certainly tried. I was submerged in bacta for a while, but the tank was contaminated. ISB at the time was in a bit of disarray, and allocating good resources to the ‘front line’ agents was seen as a waste. I was only halfway healed when all the bacta had to be destroyed due to the contaminants. I was left to heal on my own, or shell out the credits I definitely didn’t have for proper treatment. So I was discharged. Dropped off on Coruscant with no rank, no pension, no apology, and a bad leg that never healed properly.”

“Is that when you learned to use a bo-rifle?” Zeb rubbed a thumb over the cloth that was wrapped around his weapon, the familiar touch and texture still triggering memories for him, both good and bad.

“After the initial spiral of angry drunkenness, yes. I became a bit obsessed with the unfamiliar weapon that killed my unit. I wanted to know everything there was to know about bo-rifles and lasat. I even studied lasat culture to see if I could find a reason why that mercenary killed everyone but me. I found no answers in the end.”

“There wouldn’t be any. He didn’t fight with honor, I can tell you that. He was a mercenary. He worked _for_ a Rebel, not the true Rebellion.” Zeb found himself surprised he wasn’t defending someone of his own species, but this lasat didn’t sound like anyone he ever wanted to know, be it his kin or otherwise.

"The _true_ Rebellion. By the time I came to my senses about the Empire, of its evil, I tried to join the Rebellion." Kallus laughed bitterly. "But the war was pretty much over, and they needed able bodied soldiers and pilots, leaders… not a crippled ex-Imperial with delusions of being useful after years of doing nothing."

"So you ended up here?"

"I wanted to make up for the wrongs I did while in the service of the Empire, I wanted to help. I was adamant, and the restored Republic didn't want to turn down _everyone_ , it seems. I was assigned here as part of the expansion project to the Unknown Regions."

Zeb studied the crease of Kallus' brow; his perpetual frown a familiar sight. Was there ever a time when that wasn't so? Kallus noticed him staring intently at him.

"Kriffing hells, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you all that for pity, just… don't look at me like that." Kallus wiped at his face like there were invisible tears there and looked away.

"Like what? Like I care?" Because Zeb did.

"You shouldn't. I know what happened on Lasan. The Siege, the Empire. How they came to your world to occupy it. You may have driven them off, but at what cost? One life lost is already too much. Anyone who joined the Empire doesn't deserve kindness from any of the beings they hurt."

"You had left the Empire before the Siege. You weren't an Imperial when it happened." Zeb could feel his emotions bubbling alive; a mix of heartache and frustration and confusion. Should he _not_ care? Was caring for a man like Kallus wrong?

"That doesn't excuse that I was one before. I didn't _defect,_ I was thrown away! Cast aside when I wasn't useful."

"Had you stayed you might have defected. You said you realized their evil, right?"

"Afterwards. When it was too late. So _no_ , you shouldn't care. I don't deserve it."

"Karabast! You told me all that so I would hate you. _That's_ what you wanted? That's what you _deserve_ , is it?" Zeb gripped his bo-rifle in his fists. "Well, too bad!"

Kallus' head whipped in his direction so quickly, his hair flew across his eyes. " _'Too bad?_ '"

"Yeah, _too bad_. What's done is done, the war is over, we've both moved on. You're still my friend even if you were an Imperial. Am I your friend even though I'm a lasat?"

"Of -of course you are," Kallus stammered and Zeb's heart swelled. That was the first time the human had admitted to that.

"I care. No matter what you _think_ you deserve. I care about you!" Zeb felt the fur on his neck stand up. " _Karabast_!"

" _Karabast_. What does that even mean?" Kallus asked, breathing harder, as if he had just swam around the island.

"Right now, it means I need another drink!" Zeb stormed into the kitchen, setting his bo-rifle on the table with a heavy clunk. The click-pat behind him let him know that Kallus had followed him there.

"Here," Kallus said, his voice gravelly but soft, as he reached besides Zeb to pull a dark, unlabeled bottle from a cabinet. "We could both use something stronger than Corellian Ale."

"What is it?" He asked, eyeing the bottle.

"Nubian Nectar Moonshine," Kallus said and uncorked the bottle and poured them each a half glass.

They stood side by side at the counter, their shoulders practically touching in the small space as they both took a drink. The Moonshine was much stronger than the Ale, but the burn down his throat was pleasant and smooth. The sweet and cloying floral taste lingered on his tongue and lips.

"I'm sorry for my behavior, for raising my voice," Kallus said after another sip from his own glass. "This is very new to me. Knowing there's someone who cares enough to be near me, despite my past. Someone who _wants_ to be a friend."

"Well, get used to it." Zeb rocked and nudged gently into Kallus' arm with his elbow. "But you don't exactly make it easy y'know."

There was a sigh and Zeb felt a pressure against his arm as the human leaned into him more. "I know I can be… abrasive at times."

"It's alright. But only cuz you're so pretty," Zeb teased, using an old line. He hoped Kallus would remember it.

Kallus snorted into his glass before finishing it off. "You have bad taste, Garazeb Orrelios."

"Nah, don't think so."

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I wonder if I knew him. The lasat that killed Kallus' unit. If he had a bo-rifle that means he was at least part of the honor guard. Though he could have gotten it from any number of possible places. Somewhere more nefarious, like the black market. Then again maybe he earned it, through the Boosahn Keeraw. But, if someone can change for the good, someone could just as easily change for the bad, even a lasat. Picking off the injured, lingering to watch them die, leaving one to suffer and to watch… being _paid_ for their loyalty -that doesn't sound honorable to me. Someone who tries to rejoin the fight, even though they're not fit for battle, even though they were on the other side before… he is the honorable one. To me. He's kind of a lot of things to me. Don't know when that happened. Maybe I'm still drunk. That was strong moonshine, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Four weeks. It had been four weeks out in the unknown, stuck on a moon, his communications array destroyed. Four weeks of repairs. Four weeks since he had seen the gray and blue planet of Ahch-to through his viewport. Four weeks since he had seen Kallus.

He came in slow, despite his haste to see and hear his friend. By now the Waystation Operator was probably pinging him and screaming obscenities; all of it lost to him. Maybe by the time he landed, he would notice his array was damaged and he wouldn't get a cane to the head for not answering him.

Zeb took the liberty and landed on Platform A without approval. He had gotten the impression on more than one occasion that Kallus secretly held that one aside for him. Or maybe Zeb's ego was all it was. Still, a lasat could hope, right?

He haphazardly shut everything down and all but ran out of the cockpit and towards his cargo bay where the ramp to the outside was still lowering. It was too slow for his hurried steps and he leapt out the side and bounded around his ship.

He saw Kallus sprinting -as fast as a man with a bad leg could- across the duracrete towards him. They all but collided with each other, but stopped at the last moment, a mere foot apart, both breathing heavily from their exertion.

They said in unison:

"My array was damaged!"

"Your array must be broken!"

Zeb smiled fondly at the angry, relieved, flustered mess that was Kallus' face. All too suddenly he wanted to cup that face in his big hands and soothe those flushed, bearded cheeks under his thumbs. He wanted to brush that _one_ strand of golden hair back, feel it ghost across his knuckle. He wanted to pull him close.

He put a single hand on Kallus' shoulder instead. _Karabast_.

Kallus brought up his own hand, cold fingers moving across warm fur to rest on Zeb's wrist, as if to make sure their connection lasted. _Double_ _Karabast_.

The rest of their reunion was made across from each other at the kitchen table in Way One. He had lived off rations and local water while stranded on the moon, so fresh Ahch-to seafood and sweet tea were delicacies on his tongue. Between chews and swallows, he regaled his adventure back to Kallus, who was patiently listening to the tale of meteor showers, giant space chickens, and lengthy repairs. He even waited until he was finished before making a remark.

"So you read the manual on how to fix your engine and the micro-fractures but _not_ your communications array?" Kallus asked and tightened his crossed arms against his chest as if to hold himself back from something. "Had you just fixed that _first_ , you could have sent a distress signal to _me_ , and _not_ have been stranded for _four weeks_."

"The communications array needed a _part_ I didn't _have_ and couldn't _make_ , remember?" Zeb fired back at the human.

"Well, we're going to make sure you have a spare then, aren't we? Now hurry up so I can help repair the broken one the kriffing space chickens _pecked_ off." Their eyes met.

Zeb savored the moment of the two of them for a second before admitting aloud, "I missed you, Kal."

He didn't wait for an answer, he didn't even linger on the surprised look on Kallus' face. He stood from the table and gathered his dishes and went to place them in the sink. He thought to himself, _you were the first thing I thought about. Getting back to you._

Just as they both stepped into the turbolift to go back down, Kallus finally said what he was hoping to hear back. "I missed you too, Zeb."

That admission was enough to keep the smile on Zeb's face well into the _Dansirana's_ repairs.

Kallus had the parts his communications array needed and before he knew it, Zeb's ship had been swarmed with droids that went to work on the main issues and the lingering structural repairs. For the finer wiring and installs, he had Kallus himself half buried in the components.

The human had taken his large sweater off, as it had kept getting caught on small juts of metal. Zeb had been awarded a glimpse of the lithe and muscular body that hid beneath the human's usual garment. He wore a dark ochre, long sleeved shirt that was so tight it could have been a second skin. The first glimpse of the appealing silhouette had Zeb fumbling his hydospanner.

He knew Kallus was broad shouldered, but now he could see the true online of them; his entire upper body looked powerful. This was probably due to his legs being weaker, his injury no doubt causing one leg's muscle structure to be smaller. His waist and hips looked strong but trim; Zeb imagined he could encircle them with his hands almost completely. Zeb imagined a lot of things lately.

If Zeb had to pinpoint the exact moment he finally realized he was physically attracted to Kallus, he would have to say it was the night of the storm. Whether it was the way he had handled weapons -seeing him with his bo-rifle- or when they had awoken the next morning. They had finished that fancy Moonshine off completely and had ended up on the bed, haphazardly slung across each other as they attempted to sleep off their drunkenness.

The resulting pounding headache had been worth it; he awoke to the sight of Kallus still asleep, hair flopped across his brows, a serene expression on his face, and the soft halo of sunlight glowing over his skin.

"Zeb, are you paying attention? You need to know how to reroute power in case the main directory is damaged," Kallus called over his shoulder and Zeb shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm watching!" Zeb leaned further over Kallus, his chest coming into contact with his back, one arm propped over them.

"I have half a mind to plant a tracking device while I'm in here," Kallus said and Zeb scoffed.

"I made it back! _Eventually…_ "

"After four weeks!" The human growled and zapped a wire into place. "Did you at least get some holos recorded for your awaiting fans on this planet?"

"Yeah sure, when I wasn't being chased by those big ol' cluckers. Place was teeming with life. I guess it had to have plenty of prey with those bogans running 'round. I've got quite the backlog now."

"I cannot wait to watch," Kallus said with dead-panned sarcasm.

"My biggest fan, Kallus of Way One!" Zeb laughed heartily and wrapped an arm over Kallus' collar and rocked him side to side in jest. He almost put him in a headlock and twisted his fist onto his hair, but refrained.

"Zeb!" Kallus protested, but there was also a smile in his voice and a chuckle in his throat.

"C'mon, you know you'll watch 'em the moment they hit the holonet!" Zeb pulled away, resuming his lean against the bulkhead they were working on, looking sideways at the human.

"Even though your reckless behavior gets my heart racing when I watch, I have to admit you _are_ quite dashing when you do it." He was pink in the cheeks and ears, and he wouldn't look at him straight on. Zeb now knew that meant he was embarrassed.

"Oh? Gets your heart racing for other reasons then, huh?" Zeb felt his _own_ heart start to race. He had always been prepared for his infatuation to be one sided.

" _Kriff_ ," Kallus cursed and ducked his head further into the wiring panel, as if to hide and ignore their flirtatious banter. He hit his hand on something a moment later and cursed again when a crackle and flash of light erupted from the bulkhead.

Zeb watched as he dropped his connector torch angrily and shook his hand, leaning back from the panel. The smell of burned skin and an electrical discharge stung at his sensitive nose.

"You okay?" Zeb asked and reached out to clasp his hurt hand in his own. Kallus didn't resist the scrutiny as Zeb studied the burn mark on the back of a couple fingers.

"I'm fine, grazed the exposed section there on the side." Kallus sounded out of breath and quiet, eyes fixed on their touching hands.

" _Now_ who's reckless," Zeb softly teased, lowering his voice and leaning closer. His thumb rubbed just around the burn. The fingerless gloves Kallus wore did nothing to protect those long digits, or keep them warm.

"A minor burn is hardly reckless compared to chasing after dangerous creatures." His voice wavered a bit, an octave above a whisper.

"A lasat isn't ever reckless. We just never know when to give up." Zeb felt a pull towards the human, one he didn't want to hold back anymore. "Does that still make your heart race?"

"Yes," Kallus breathed out quickly. He licked his lips and Zeb _noticed._

 _Karabast_ , he wanted to kiss him. Did he want this as much as he did? Humans kissed, like lasat, but did they have another ritual for affection? Lasat also scented each other; would he enjoy that too?

The questions raced through Zeb's mind until he felt Kallus' other hand run up the side of his neck, cool fingers sending a shiver up his back. He usually tried to smooth down the fluffed fur on the back of his neck but Kallus was already gripping the area and pulling him down.

The bottom of his lip made tingling contact with-

"Mister Orrelios! I need your assistance with a code in the _-oh-_ was I interrupting something?" AP-5 droned from the archway.

Both parties ducked away, their hands dropping from each other's grasp. Zeb was pretty indifferent towards droids usually, but he was starting to see the appeal in tearing one apart right about now.

“Yeah, ya kinda were,” Zeb snarled. He noticed Kallus, out of the corner of his eye, lean with both arms against the bulkhead, his head bowed and hidden from view.

“Well, I need your assistance talking with your computer. It is requesting some kind of code that I do not have,” AP-5 continued on, as if he hadn’t just interrupted something very important. Yeah, he _hadn’t_ just walked in on Kallus and him about to kiss each other senseless.

Zeb took one last look at Kallus, who was still facing the wall, a hand now on his hip, before turning to follow AP-5 out of the access space and to the cockpit.

When he was through, he wanted to rush back to Kallus, to finish what they both had started, but more repairs and lingering droids prevented them from being alone with each other for the remainder of the day. If it wasn’t AP-5, it was a hovering repair droid, or a MSE underfoot. By the time all the repairs were through, the moment between them seemed to have passed.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I’ve heard talk that humans are some of the best lovers in the galaxy... I uh… I’ve been thinking a little bit on that subject lately. I’ve noted before that humans are adaptive, probably one of the most adaptive creatures in the galaxy even. Is that some of the appeal? Some base instinct that if you stick around a human, you may just survive? Especially when they are the most abundant species in the galaxy; is it really a wonder that others say ‘yeah, I want a piece of that’? Is the appeal more about their adaptability as a _lover_? I’ve heard that lasat and humans were… _compatible…_ if one is patient, that is. Karabast, just thinking this has me-- *beep beep* --I’ve got an incoming transmission…


	11. Chapter 11

Zeb sat up in his pilot’s chair and turned off his journal recorder, and flipped the switch to relay over to his brand new communications array. The coordinates flashed across his readout, but he already knew who it was.

“Hiya, Kal!” Zeb greeted, his ears twitching forward, awaiting the smooth and deep voice he already missed hearing.

“Everything is working splendidly I see,” Kallus said through the comm.

“Clear as if you were right here in front of me,” Zeb said brightly and thought longingly, _but you’re not_.

"Where are you?" Kallus asked gently.

"In hyperspace going towards sector eleven dash two. Binary star system. Guessing desert planet. Like Tatooine probably." He had meant to tell Kallus that before he left; he knew he was worried about him stranding himself again. "So, did you plant that tracking device under my nose, after all?"

There was a soft laugh. "If I had I wouldn't be comming you."

"Yeah ya would." Zeb didn't want to presume, but he felt confident in _that_ at least. There was something there, between them, and it only grew by the passing moment.

"Yes." There was a short pause before Kallus said, "I also… wish that we could have finished what we started."

"In the access room?" Zeb asked, though he already knew the answer. "Yeah, me too."

"Why... didn't we?"

_Because we were both busy. Because we were afraid to change what we have already. Because we're friends. Because we both have to take running starts to make the leap. Because we're fools..._

Zeb couldn't find any words to speak aloud that sounded right.

Then Kallus asked him, in a hesitant voice, "Come back?"

Suddenly the mere hour he had been away seemed too long. _Karabast_ , they were idiots.

Zeb was practically vibrating by the time he touched back down on Ahch-to. The dark clouds he had flown through on his departure were now releasing their stores of water.

He didn't get a ping from Way One, and he wasn't really expecting one, as he knew Kallus would be outside waiting for him the moment he touched down. For the second time that day, Zeb bounded through the _Dansirana_ and jumped off a still descending bay door to get outside.

The rain was cold, it saturated his fur and stung at his eyes, but it didn't matter; because there Kallus was, getting just as drenched as he was.

They met halfway across the platform, bodies colliding without an ounce of hesitation. Zeb buried his big fingers through that damp, golden hair and pressed his lips against his. Kallus gasped into his mouth and let out a breathy whimper as their mouths met again and again under the deluge.

Kissing a human was a lot different than kissing another lasat. His lips and mouth were thinner and smaller, but they were also supple and slick; armed with an exploring tongue that teased and tasted against his own like they were _made_ to do battle. He never wanted to stop.

Small blunt teeth nipped at his lips and this time _Zeb_ gasped into the kiss, grunting as he pressed into Kallus more. His claws caught in the fabric of his sweater, the garment heavy and thick over the human. Zeb felt him grab a fistful of his shirt's collar and tug him even closer.

When they finally had to pull apart for air, puffing out hot clouds into the cold, they both smiled and pressed their foreheads together simultaneously.

"You're back," Kallus said, breathlessly. He started to nibble and peck small kisses at the corner of his mouth.

"You asked me to," Zeb replied and cupped his head between his two large hands and gave him a good look over. Disheveled and flushed, droplets or water falling from his golden hair; he was beautiful.

Kallus turned his head in his hands and gave one palm a wet, open-mouthed kiss. "I want you in my bed," he said and took a step backwards, towards Way One.

Zeb nodded and followed him, stealing a kiss every other step, guiding him and making sure his cane didn't catch on anything. It never did, but he was attentive anyway, a supportive hand on his hip.

When they got inside the turbolift, they melted into the wall. Kallus let his cane clatter to the ground, now with enough support from both the wall and Zeb's hands at his waist. Two strong arms wrapped themselves over Zeb's shoulders and the heat of their kiss ignited as they molded their bodies together.

Kallus' beard scratched against his own, rubbed at his lips, the sensation fanning the desire to scent him more and more. Kallus began to make small noises in the back of his throat as their kisses intensified and hands began to _squeeze_ instead of simply hold.

Zeb stepped closer, angling into the human pinned to the wall in just the right way so that every possible gap between their bodies was filled with the other's.

They were both panting and achingly hard in their pants before they had the sense to push the controls to the turbolift and start their ascent.

The lights of each level slowly streaked across the lift as Kallus pleaded, "Touch me, _touch_ me."

Zeb undid the belt and clasp of Kallus' pants and -mindful of his claws- reached in and cupped him. Kallus grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, desperate and fevered. Zeb rubbed and squeezed, his middle finger crooked ever so slightly _behind_.

Kallus gasped and his body slipped down an inch against the wall, his balance faltering. Zeb could _feel_ his knees trembling against his own. But Zeb had his other arm wrapped around him, protective and supporting.

"I've got you," Zeb whispered into his ear and then kissed him, long and adoring. He had him, he'd _always_ have him.

"Kriff, Zeb, I'm-!" Kallus whimpered helplessly against his lips, and Zeb felt a purr begin to rumble in his chest in answer to him. Kallus buried his head into his shoulder and gave a sharp cry as his entire body shuddered.

Zeb never thought that one of the most erotic moments of his life would take place inside an ascending turbolift, _feeling_ a man come undone in the palm of his hand, but here he was.

The doors opened to the 13th floor with perfect timing. Kallus was still reeling from his orgasm as Zeb tucked an arm under his buttocks and carried him out of the lift. The entire way to the bed, Kallus caressed Zeb's head languidly, fingers smoothing down his neck and across his ears, lips pressing into his temple and brows over and over again.

Zeb set Kallus down on the mattress and blankets, lingering for a while so that he could place appreciative kisses against his racing pulsepoint. His purr grew louder in response to it.

He pulled back to a kneel above the human and began to undo his own clothes, peeling the wet fabric down to his waist first. Kallus followed his lead and began to take his clothes off piece by piece. Molten amber eyes watched him as he then continued to push the rest of his jumpsuit off completely. Zeb couldn't help but admire the mess that was revealed as Kallus shucked his pants and underwear; a mess he helped make.

He also noticed the massive scar, twisted skin permanently fused coarse, a shinier pink than the rest of his skin. It ran from his ribs, across one hip, and bloomed like a massive root system completely down his right leg. Whether that was from the blast or the contaminated bacta, it looked like it had been painful. The muscles were slimmer on that leg, functioning but not strong.

"Does it hurt?" Zeb asked. He wanted to be sure he was comfortable and felt safe.

"From time to time," Kallus admitted, a soothing hand on his thigh, tickling the coarse fur there near his knee.

"Now?"

Kallus shook his head in the negative. Zeb let out a relieved sigh and gathered both of his hands together in his own. He tried to warm them with his breath and kissed each long digit thoroughly. The burn from before was covered in bacta tape and he was mindful of the bindings as he entwined their fingers together. Zeb then slowly -gently- leaned in to trap them above his head.

This time he kissed him slowly. Each new slide and flick of his tongue had Kallus chasing after him, his neck craning upwards. Zeb's furry chest grazed across his with feather light contact, and Kallus let out a noisy moan as his purring grew louder.

"M'gonna scent you now," Zeb told him, kissing his cheek and breathing hotly into one cutely rounded ear. "Know what that is?"

"Yes, _please_ _Zeb_ ," Kallus begged him and his hands gripped his harder. Of course he knew. He had admitted to studying lasat culture after what happened to him on that mission to Onderon. Still, Zeb was worried he'd scare him, and he didn't want him to shut down. Even if the gesture of scenting each other was gentle, it was still deeply intimate.

Zeb rubbed his side beard into Kallus' cheek, his own facial hair bristling into his with a satisfying union. He did the other side, nuzzling deeply into the crook of the humans neck, his forehead pressing into the soft fabric of the blankets beneath them.

Kallus was pliant and accepting of the motions, tilting his head to accommodate sweetly. He was grateful that Kallus had facial hair too, so that the lasat affection could be properly expressed.

"It's s'good," Zeb slurred into the hair at Kallus' temple. He was drunk on his taste and smell; a heady mix of salty skin and sharp rainwater. There was the hint of mechanical oil and his favorite tea also lingering as backnotes. All those scents were now mingling with his own, his fur soaking it in, and Zeb moaned in primal glee.

"Let me touch you, Zeb, _please_." Kallus' nails dug deep into the meat between his fingers, where he still held them above his head.

Zeb's hands slid down to his wrists and then he let go, bracing himself above the human. Fingers, no longer cold, and now hot and burning, slid down his body. Kallus stroked the fur and softer hair of his chest first and quickly worked downwards, taking his length into both of his hands to explore and to _wring_ his pleasure to a peak.

 _Karabast, karabast_ , he thought over and over again as he realized he could never deny this man anything. And if he asked for his heart, he would tell him it was his long ago.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
From this humble lasat's opinion… a human lover is so very adaptive. In so many ways. I can confirm we are very much compatible.

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* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Zeb was proud he had lasted a full two days before he was back in Kallus' bed again. Tangled with the man himself late into the night, he felt content and warm, if a little sore.

While their first time may have been a night of delicate exploring and passionate affirmations, this night had been far more _carnal_ in nature. He now knew how hard he could push, how _deep_ he could press, how to drive them both wild when he found that sweet spot and didn't stop until they were both shaking, spent messes.

Zeb's gentle purr was almost rattling to a stop when Kallus finally stirred in his arms after passing out for almost an hour. He was half laying atop him, one arm across his chest and a leg thrown over his waist. Zeb had just been stroking the inside of his knee, the supple skin there so smooth and untouched by his scarring.

"Hmm?" Kallus hummed into his chin, his long nose snuffling into his beard, breathing in his scent and then kissing faintly at his cheek as he woke up. Zeb smirked at the sleepy, nuzzling human curled into his side. "Hmm, _Zeb…_ "

"Yeah, that's me. You back?" He brushed some of that silken hair back and began to do some nuzzling of his own.

"Mm-hmm." Kallus' fingers grazed over his chest, playing with the slightly longer fur and hair there.

"Kriffed the words right out of ya, huh?"

"Quite thoroughly," Kallus said, his voice rough. It was probably due to the way he had damn near screamed his release earlier. Zeb was quite proud of himself for that one.

"Oh, you still sound chatty, best double my efforts next time," Zeb teased and Kallus laughed. It was one of the most endearing sounds he had ever heard.

"If we kriffed any harder, _you'll_ need a cane to walk." Kallus hugged around his big chest and squeezed him tight.

"That a challenge? Sounds like a challenge."

Kallus chuckled some more and let the Ashla take him now, because he could lay there forever listening to that.

"So," Kallus began, "I didn't get to ask -before you took all my clothes off- but did you make it to that binary star system?"

"Sure did. Big gas giant had ten moons. Only two had life."

"Did any space chickens terrorize you this time?"

"Nah, but there were some pesky-"

Zeb was interrupted by a soft alarm going off across the room at the Waystation's consoles.

"Ship coming into orbit," Kallus sighed and rolled out of Zeb's arms to search the sheets for something. "Kriff, where's my…"

If it was his clothes he was looking for, they were still laying in the kitchen where Zeb had stripped them off him while they made out on the table. His cane had been left there too, now that he thought about it. Well, only one solution then.

He threw a sheet over Kallus, to which he tried to throw it back, but Zeb was quicker. He wrapped the sheet around the human's torso and tucked his arms under him and lifted. Standing up on the bed, with a struggling mass of muscle in his arms, was a bit of a challenge, but he made do.

"Kriffing hells, Zeb!" Kallus growled but settled down quickly, seemingly resigned to his fate of being carried to his workstation by a very smug and very naked lasat.

The cold, soft letheris of the chair felt strange on his bare ass as he sat, readjusting Kallus so that he could do his work. Even though Kallus seemed perturbed, he was still hitting buttons and not making a move to extricate himself.

"Platform B is open and illuminated, _Outrider_ ," Kallus said, though his voice was still a bit gravelly. "There's dense fog tonight. Mind the porgs."

"Copy that, Way One," came a female voice with a chuckling tone. "I could use some of your high priced fuel tonight, too."

"I'll send my droid down."

"Thanks," the _Outrider's_ pilot said, "can't _wait_ for the Ahch-to gossip from AP-5!"

"That's at your own risk, _Outrider,_ " Kallus warned and the pilot laughed.

"He reminds me of my grandmother, so no problems there. Have a good night, Way One!"

"You as well."

The comm clicked off and Kallus did a few more tasks before settling into Zeb, reaching a hand back to stroke his ear and scratch his chin with affection as they watched the _Outrider's_ approach on the sensors.

"You were _never_ that nice to me in the beginning," Zeb griped but started to place soft kisses across Kallus' shoulder anyway. He worked his way up his neck and nipped his ear playfully. Zeb greatly enjoyed watching the tip of that ear blush scarlet.

"In the beginning, I didn't have an oversized seat warmer wrapped around me." Kallus turned his head into his own and captured his lips in a hot kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Zeb gave him a mischievous smile. "Did you ever talk to _me_ on the comm _naked_?"

Kallus snorted. "No. Never."

"Oh, c'mon, lie to me. That thought was gettin' me goin' there for a moment!" He wiggled his brows at him lasciviously.

"How about the truth… I used to fantasize about you throwing me over your shoulder and carrying me to the closest wall to have your way with me."

"I can do-!"

"Hold it!" Kallus halted him just as he was about to stand. Zeb gave him a pout as he settled back down. "The _thought_ of another round _is_ appealing, but my body might not agree with that at the moment. And as much as it is _very_ hot of you to carry me when I don't have my cane, it is not necessary."

"Yeah 'course." Zeb felt a pang of worry he had done something wrong being romantic and carrying him everywhere. "Want me to go get it for you?"

Kallus gave him a kind look. It was as if he read his mind. "It _would_ be faster if you took me over to it."

Zeb felt a thrill at the way Kallus clung to him, face buried deep into his neck, as he carried him over to the kitchen. If he noticed he was purposefully taking slower steps to savor the feeling, he never said a word, only held on tighter.

Kallus was leaning against the table, pulling on his undershirt, when Zeb finished his own dressing. He didn't bother fully zipping up though, and took to admiring his human lover as he ran his hands through his ruffled hair, trying to get it into some semblance of order. He gave up eventually and grabbed his cane off the table and made his way into the kitchen to make himself something. Zeb sat at the table and watched him.

"What do you think you would have done if your leg had healed properly?" Zeb asked and watched a frown develop on the other man's face. Karabast, was that too sensitive a subject?

"I suppose I would have still been in the Empire when it fell." Kallus looked contemplative before continuing with his task. He was making their favorite tea. "But maybe not. It's hard to think about that. What might have been."

Zeb wondered if Kallus would have been on Lasan, fighting with the Empire to destroy his homeworld, had he not been hurt that badly and stayed. Would they have met in battle, in some other life? It _was_ hard to think about that. "You don't think you'd've defected?"

"Maybe." Kallus gave a half smile and Zeb felt some of his worry ebb away. "What if I had become a _spy_ for the Rebellion? How very holonovel _that_ would have been."

"Only if you had a hot Rebel lover on the side. _That_ would make a great holonovel," Zeb added and it awarded him another full laugh from Kallus. This was a funner course of 'what-ifs' for him to think about.

"Oh? And what sort of hot Rebel would this be? A handsome Cathar? A big strong wookiee? A _horny_ Gotal? All good romance holonovels are interspecies anyway."

"Are they? I think you just have a type." Zeb was smiling like a fool, imagining Kallus sitting in here reading trashy romance holonovels about big, fuzzy aliens all day. Kallus wasn't saying anything to the contrary, in fact he could almost say he was acting bashful, tucking his head away from his view as he made the tea.

When he came back with the pot, he seemed a bit more in control of his embarrassment. He took a seat right next to Zeb, practically on his lap. He laid a hand on his thigh, as if it was the most natural thing to do. Zeb wrapped an arm over his shoulder, happy to be touched and cuddled into. He would have never guessed the hardened Waystation Operator to be so tactile, but maybe he was just as touch starved as he had been; maybe more so.

He noticed Kallus rubbing at his right knee with his other hand. Zeb frowned, thinking back to one of the positions he had had him in earlier in the night. "Leg bothering you? We were kinda _enthusiastic_ there at the beginning."

" _And_ middle _and_ end," Kallus added.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Believe me, I've survived worse than a hard kriffing, Zeb," Kallus retorted, sounding prickly. He hadn't answered him though and Zeb chewed his lip, pushing at his mug's handle at what that implied.

"You'd tell me if I was, right?" Karabast, he shouldn't have to _survive_ _a kriffing._ Was that what he meant by his body wasn't up for another round? Was this why he wanted to be dressed again with his cane and not still naked in bed with him?

"I don't want to be treated any differently than you would any other partner -just because of my damn leg." Kallus was frowning into his mug, but at least his hand was still a nice weight on his thigh. At least he hadn't pulled away.

"I won't. But I also don't wanna hurt you."

"Sometimes a little pain is worth the reward," Kallus said softly, and began to stroke the downy fur on the inside of his thigh. "I know my limits."

"But I don't. Just promise to tell me when I'm approaching 'em, okay?" Zeb slipped his hand down to rest atop Kallus'.

"Alright," Kallus said and finally Zeb got to see a smile on his face again. He finally took a big gulp of his tea.

Perhaps he could get him to laugh one more time before he had to leave. Maybe hearing it would help him endure the time between their visits a bit more. Two days had been near torture.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Having a human for a lover has its perks. I'm not going to go into too much detail but that little tickling tongue -and that _mouth_ \- can do some _things._ Yeah, we have our days where we rub at each other in completely the opposite way I wanna be rubbed, but we still get over it. He can be mister grouchy still, he has his moments, and so do I. It's not always stars and sunrises; sometimes his mood mirrors the weather -and I feel lost in the fog. I also feel cold when he's not here with me. I wanna stay longer and stop by more often. I think I'm… I'm not sure, but I hope we aren't just 'making do' with each other. That we both aren't just lonely and holding on to the first bit of comfort we can get a proper grip on. I like to think we're more than that to each other. Does he feel the same? Or is he just making do? Am I? It doesn't feel like it. It's been three days since I left Way One, and it's already been too long. Nights like this make me question myself sometimes; my choices. But a lasat never knows when to give up. Right?

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	13. Chapter 13

"Platform A," was the curt greeting Zeb got from his lover, whom he hadn't seen for a full standard week. Zeb frowned at the comm. They had just spoken less than a day ago and everything had seemed fine at the time.

"Nice to see you too, Kal," Zeb muttered to himself.

When he landed he made his way towards Way One quickly. There were no other ships on the platforms, so he shouldn’t have been busy. AP-5 had tried to tell him something, but he was too concerned about getting up to the 13th level. He wasn’t _that_ mad Kallus had basically hung up on him. How many times before had he done just that? Then again, that was before they were _a thing_.

When Zeb got to the 13th level, he stepped into the room and saw the back of Kallus’ head sticking up over his work chair at the Waystation controls.

“Kal! What’s up, don’t want to talk to me or something?” Zeb approached and Kallus turned around in his chair and he immediately noticed the nervous look on his face.

“Zeb, perhaps if you had waited to-”

“You coulda said _something_ when I was landing. C’mon, it’s been a week, I kinda wanna ki-”

“Zeb!” Kallus snapped, cleared his throat, his eyes looking sideways to the spare chair at the Waystation console next to him. “I have a _visitor_.”

The chair spun around, though how it did so when the occupant was such a slight creature, Zeb couldn’t tell. He had seen many beings in his life, and quite a few beasties around the galaxy, but he had never seen anything like this species before. It was small, _green_ , and looked weathered and elderly, dressed in simple brown robes, a crooked wooden cane in it’s lap.

“Oh! Sorry, heh, about _all that_. I’m Zeb,” he said, walking closer towards them both and waving a hand at the little being. His other hand was soothing the embarrassed hairs rising on the back of his neck.

“Yoda, my name is.” His voice was low and croaked, either a sign of age or species, or both.

“Nice to meet you Yoda, what brings you to Ahch-to?” Zeb asked and chanced a look to Kallus, trying to apologise through eye contact. It didn’t seem to be working.

“Master Yoda lives here, Zeb. At the Jedi temple on another island,” Kallus explained.

“Yes, Jedi temple. Awaiting visitors, I am. Any moment now. A new Padawan they have brought me,” Yoda said and turned to the Waystation readouts. As if on cue, the soft alarm for a ship coming into orbit began to go off.

Kallus turned back around and began the process of receiving and recording the ship’s information into the system. He hit the comm controls. “Platform B is open and illuminated, _Ghost_.”

“Copy Way One, making our approach,” came a calm -and Zeb had to admit- almost melodic- female voice.

Zeb missed how this Yoda had gotten _down_ from his chair, but the next thing he knew, he was walking towards him, his little wooden cane barely making any noise. Kallus’ loud by comparison _click-pat_ made Zeb’s attention focus up to the human as Yoda made his way past him and to the lift.

This time Kallus appeared apologetic, as he stepped right up to Zeb. With Yoda waiting in the lift, he seemed reluctant to close the gap with their usual greeting of a kiss. Perhaps it wasn’t prudent to kiss each other senseless in the presence of an elderly Jedi Master. Kallus gave him a tired sigh and Zeb held his gaze, those amber eyes so very beautiful to see in person again.

“Missed you,” Zeb said, mindful to be very quiet.

Kallus gave him a grateful half-smile that answered him, without words, that he missed him too. The human was even so bold as to start to raise a hand to touch his own, when Yoda cleared his throat impatiently in the lift. His hand dropped and they both glared at the being.

When they were both in the lift, they took to standing at either end, with Yoda in the center, between them. It was quiet inside as they descended, and Zeb made it a point to _not_ look at Kallus. The physical ache to be next to him, to touch him, to hold him, was very strong. He was a little worried that if he looked at Kallus now, and he was looking back _in that way_ , he might not be able to control himself, even with the visitors. He knew he should have come back a day earlier.

Just as they were approaching the end of the ride down, Yoda cleared his throat again and spoke, “the paths we take, curious it is. Such is the way of paths, to form where one walks often.”

Zeb and Kallus did share a look at each other then. It was one of confusion, however, but they couldn't dwell on it too long, as the door opened and Yoda was the first to disembark.

Right next to the _Dansirana_ , Zeb saw a VCX-100 light freighter powering down engines. It was well maintained but looked like it had been through a few scraps in its past. Something about that made it quite charming to him. The ramp at the rear was lowering and his keen ears could already pick up the sounds of multiple voices.

Soon there was quite the group on the platform. Two human males, one older with white hair, the other with brown hair tied back. There was also a green-skinned twi'lek woman, an astromech droid, and three younger humans. They were older than kits, for sure, but really not much more than that, Zeb would suspect. He was not a very good judge of human ages though.

Zeb stayed back with Kallus, who was lingering behind, to give the group privacy. They all seemed to be making pleasantries and introductions with each other. “Those are all Jedi?”

Kallus shook his head. “No, only Master Yoda and the two men. I believe the kids are all Padawans, those to be trained to become Jedi.”

“Didn’t think the Jedi were back enough to start training. What about the twi'lek?” Zeb asked, eyeing the way the woman was watching the group, with an air of separation herself.

“The pilot of the ship, I assume,” Kallus said.

The astromech droid broke off and began to wheel towards them. It warbled something at him, waving a manipulator arm. Zeb frowned at the orange and grey thing, and said, “Don’t understand bucket, sorry.”

The droid buzzed and grumbled in agitation.

“He’s looking for AP-5 for some routine diagnostics while they are here,” Kallus said and then addressed the droid. “He should be just inside there.”

If Zeb wasn’t mistaken, he could almost hear the sickly sweet way it responded to Kallus. Then it wheeled by, too close, and nearly ran over one of Zeb’s feet. He had to dance back to avoid getting trampled. “Hey!”

A maniacal ‘laugh’ from the droid trailed in the air as it wheeled away.

“So, how long they staying for anyway?” Zeb asked once the droid was far enough away.

“Not sure,” Kallus replied. Zeb then felt the soft brush of cool fingers on his wrist. He looked down to see the human brushing against his fur.

“Soon as they’re gone, I’m going to make sure to give you a proper hello,” Zeb purred, taking a step closer. Those beautiful eyes he admired so much flicked away and Kallus took a step back from him. The soothing fingers at his hand also retreated. Before Zeb could fret that he had done something wrong, he noticed that they were no longer alone.

Standing there, as if they were already acquainted, was one of the young humans from the group. He had dark hair, so black it shone blue in the light, and a mischievous pair of azure eyes. He was a bit gangly, still filling out to his height.

He was staring at him very keenly, and a wide smile soon bloomed across his face.

“It _is_ you!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “The lasat nature guy from the holonet. You’re famous.”

Zeb stood up straighter. It wasn’t often he was recognized. Then again, he barely met anyone new anymore. All his free time lately was devoted to being holed up with Kallus here on Ahch-to. “I’m famous? You watch my holos, kid?”

“Oh all the time. Just don’t tell my Master. I’m supposed to be training or meditating during free time.” The kid ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. “I can’t wait for the next upload. Is this where you send out the broadcasts?”

“Yeah, Way One is kinda like my home base right now. The next one should be up sometime soon.” Zeb gave a look over to Kallus, who was watching their interaction with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s great! Though, I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to catch. We’re supposed to do some training at the Temple and get Leia there settled.” He gestured over to the group again, the two other kids looking over, interested, but not budging from their spots. He guessed Leia was the girl with the long brown hair. "She's gonna be Master Yoda's new Padawan."

"The princess of Alderaan; a Padawan on Ahch-to," Kallus said with disbelief. Zeb's eyes grew large as he looked over at the girl again.

" _Princess_?" Zeb asked, incredulously.

"Yes. Master Yoda informed me in the tower, in preparation for any future communications with the Organa's." Kallus didn't look too pleased to have to deal with literal royalty all the way out here. The kid besides them raised a hand to point at the fair-haired boy.

"And that's her twin brother she just met a year or two ago. He's Master Kenobi's Padawan. Long story, or so they've all said. Too long to share with me," the dark haired boy pouted. “And now that I know this is your home base and all, I kinda wish that _I_ was training with Master Yoda."

"I'm sure that Leia princess-girl will relay any big news to you. Does she watch my holos too?"

"I don't _think_ she does. To be honest I didn't really talk to her that much." The boy wrung his hands together. "So um, you think you could give me a sneak peek? Since I won’t be able to watch for a while and all? I _am_ your biggest fan.”

“Biggest fan, huh? Didn't you call me 'the lasat nature guy' earlier?" Zeb folded his arms.

"Garazeb Orrelios, nature explorer and seeker of _beasties_ in the Unknown Regions. See? I know," he said, looking smug. Zeb was not impressed.

"Shouldn’t you be, y’know -doing Jedi stuff right now?” Zeb asked, the kid becoming close to obnoxious now.

" _Yes_ Ezra, shouldn't you be doing Jedi stuff right now?" A new voice asked. The kid's shoulders hunched as the man with the tied-back brown hair approached.

"Kanan! Master! Hi, um, I was just talking to Mister Orrelios and um…" Ezra glared at Kallus, fishing for a name in his memory; a name Kallus hadn't given.

"Jabba," Kallus replied and Zeb nearly burst with laughter. Of all the names to fake with, Kallus picked a Hutt.

"Right! Mister Jabba!" Ezra made an introducing gesture at Kallus and continued, "I was just saying hello is all.”

“ _Right_ ,” the Jedi Master repeated, dragging out the word with suspicion. Obviously this Kanan was used to the kid’s antics. “I’m Kanan Jarrus, and this is my troublesome Padawan, Ezra Bridger. Hope he wasn’t disturbing you.”

“Nah, he’s just being my biggest fan and all,” Zeb teased.

“Ah yes, you make those holos I pretend not to know about.” Kanan gave a knowing side-eye to his padawan, who was rubbing at the back of his head -reminding Zeb of himself. “You’re doing some _interesting_ work out here.”

“Interesting is a good word for it,” Kallus added with a snort and Zeb gave him a squinted glare.

“You probably watch as much as he does, _Jabba_ ,” Zeb growled back. Kallus was giving him a perturbed look, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

“While I’m sure Ezra here would love to keep talking to the local celebrity, we have to get going. Gotta prep the _Phantom_ to ferry us over to the Island,” Kanan explained, placing a hand on Ezra’s shoulder and giving Zeb a warm smile. “If you’re still around when we get back, perhaps?”

“Yeah sure, I should be ‘round for a little while,” Zeb said, thinking that he was definitely wanting a long while of being alone with Kallus. Maybe he’d stay a full day or two.

“Nice to meet you both,” Kanan said with a small bow.

“Yeah, nice to meet you!” Ezra called back as he was led away.

Zeb waved and watched them go and waited until the group had reconverged to finally turn back to Kallus. "They're gonna do their own stuff for a while now right?"

"I'm not sure, that's their own business. Why?" Kallus still seemed to be a bit moody. Hopefully he just needed a big, cuddly lasat to change that.

"Because I'm thinkin' of throwing you over my shoulder right about now. Didn't you say you used to fantasize 'bout that?" Zeb took a step towards the man.

"Don't you _dare_ , Zeb _-Zeb_!" Kallus hissed and held up his cane to poke him in the chest firmly. He hopped back a step on his good leg.

Zeb was at least sure they were away from any prying eyes and nosy droids before he _did_ _dare_.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
The Jedi stayed two days. I did too. I felt a bit sad for a Princess of all people to have to stay on Ahch-to with that little Master Yoda. I don’t know what the set-up at the Jedi temple is, but from what Kal said, it isn’t much more than rudimentary at best. Such is the way of life for a Jedi and their padawans, I suppose. I can’t do much complaining, my ship is what I’ve made to be my home, and it’s nothing more than rudimentary. It’s not small, but it also feels like it needs a crew sometimes: a pilot, a copilot, a chattering droid. I didn’t get to talk to the _Ghost’s_ pilot all that much, the twi'lek. I got the feeling she was kind of… I dunno, sad? Angry? That Ezra was kind of annoying, but he seemed like a good kid, he _is_ a pretty big fan, it turns out. I liked that Kanan guy. Something about him seemed familiar. Was it his eyes? His voice? I dunno, but he reminded me of some of my old Guardsmen buddies. The others stayed to themselves, just like me and Kal did. That was nice, too; bein’ with Kal for more than a night. I miss him already. Karabast, I’m like a lovesick tooka, aren't I?


	14. Chapter 14

Zeb tried to even his breath out and ran a big hand over his face, scratching at the top of his head. He’d have to clean up eventually, but the thought of moving was nearly impossible at the moment.

“Kriff, Zeb, kriffing _hell…_ ” Kallus’ voice sounded further away, no doubt the comm device still in his hand. He could just imagine the way Kallus would be spread out; prone on his bed, one hand above his head, the other still below with a mess of his own to clean up. He would probably be running his hand through those silken blond locks if he could, too.

“Kriffing hell is right,” Zeb agreed, his voice a rumble against the purr vibrating in his chest. “We’ll have to do this more often. Maybe next time by holo.”

“I’d much rather you be here with me,” Kallus replied and Zeb felt his stomach swoop at the affectionate way he had said that. “But we must make do with what we can.”

Zeb looked up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling guilty and questioning things he'd rather not be thinking of. This was especially true as he was trying to bask in the afterglow of their mutual release. But he just couldn't help himself. The way his heart sank at the mention of 'making do' was too much to leave hanging.

"Kal, you _like_ me right?"

"What kind of question is that? I adore you," Kallus said, his voice soft and slow with satisfaction, and Zeb couldn't help his relieved smile.

"You're not just using me for my body?" Zeb posed it as a joke but inside it was a question he desperately wanted the truth for.

"Your body's not even here…" Kallus said with a groan. He seemed pliant at the moment, in more ways than one.

"You know what I mean."

"Looking for praise, are you?" There was a chuckle and Zeb looked longingly at the comm cylinder. "No, not just your body. You've pulled me into your orbit, all parts of you. You're a force of nature, Garazeb."

Zeb's heart clenched at those words. _That's how I feel about you_ , he thought. Instead he said, "You're just sayin' that cuz of all the sweet words I used earlier."

"Those were decidedly _not_ sweet."

Zeb laughed. They had been downright _filthy_ , actually. "Some of 'em were sweet."

"Fair enough," Kallus conceded, and Zeb could hear some rustling. He guessed Kallus had decided it was time to clean up. He really needed to do that as well before fluids began to dry and stick to his fur.

He grabbed a piece of cloth and got the majority up before walking to the refresher for some water and soap. There were some perks to being alone in his ship; he could walk anywhere naked. Though -he might still walk around naked if Kallus was here with him. He could just imagine his exasperated, but keenly observant, eyes on him. Karabast, he wished he was here.

"Y'know," Zeb began, "I almost faked a distress call, so you would come running out to my rescue instead."

"What a waste of Republic resources, Zeb!" Kallus mocked, his voice echoing. He must have been in the refresher now too.

"What _does_ the Republic pay you anyway? You get hazard pay for those kinds of calls?" Zeb asked, curious.

There was a scoff. "No. Those are done at my own discretion. I am paid by room and board, so to speak. If anyone I help decides to pay me anything extra beyond the cost of parts and fuel, I keep that."

"That can't be much, if anything at all. People are stingy bastards out here. You should file a complaint."

"Did you forget I practically volunteered for this? This is what I chose. This is what I _have_ to do." Zeb could hear running water now.

"Do you think you'll ever be through volunteering? Or at least feel you've done your part enough?" Zeb began to clean and dry his fur with a towel.

"Where would I go, Zeb? What would I do? There's not much for someone of my background and… limitations. Some things must be done out of honor for as long as one can." Kallus was beginning to sound irritated. He often was when his injury was brought up.

Zeb wished he was there in person, to _tell him_ in person, that: "I respect that, Kal, I do. But I also don't want you _stuck_ out here just 'making do' with _what you can_."

He knew using Kallus' own words was antagonistic, and maybe he should have held his tongue. But his insecurities had been raised ever since Kallus had mentioned it.

"You think _I'm_ making do with _you_." It was a statement, not a question.

_Karabast_ , he shouldn't have said anything.

"It's lonely out here," Zeb said, by some form of explanation. _I'd understand,_ he thought but didn't quite believe. This conversation was _not_ going in a direction he intended or liked.

"And is that what we both are? Lonely and simply attached, making do in the black because there is literally no one else?"

"No Kal, I…" Zeb held back a declaration that was on the tip of his tongue. A heavy silence hung in the air. Suddenly he felt naked, not just physically.

"I'm not," Kallus said, incensed, and Zeb blinked, surprised, at the comm. "If you are, that's fine. I'll learn to be fine with that."

“No,” Zeb reiterated, but his words were a jumble, “no it’s not fine but I’m not -I’m not making do and if you’re not…”

“I’m not!” he repeated hotly. "And I wish like the seven hells we weren’t like passing ships in the night, but isn’t that what we are, Zeb? There’s no changing that. I’m not asking that of you.”

"Anytime you need me there, _want_ me there, just say the word," Zeb said, actually putting what he had felt for a long time out in the open. _I'd be there every day with you if you only asked._ "You know you _can_ ask that of me, right?"

There was another silence. Then came Kallus' voice, sounding closer again. He must have brought the comm right up to his lips. "And you know I _can't_ …"

"And why not?"

"Zeb…" Kallus started, his voice placating. "For the same reason I can't have you carry me everywhere."

Zeb nodded, even though he knew he couldn't see him; he understood. It wasn't so much pride as it was _a way._ Like the Boosahn Keeraw. The day Kallus gave up, the day he released himself completely, would be the day he finally handed his weapon over. Zeb couldn't _take_ that from him, _ask_ that of him _,_ _assume_ that burden and honor. It had to be Kallus, by his own will, to hand it over to him. And he wasn't ready.

But was Zeb ready? He cared for Kallus. Deeply. This just solidified it more. And Kallus cared for him, adored him. But Kallus wasn't done with his fight. Would Zeb be there for his fellow warrior when he was, though? All his heart did was scream _yes,_ but his mind told him that maybe they _were_ just passing ships in the night. Even if they both wanted nothing more than to just _stop_ ; that was just not the way of ships was it? Not when the current still flowed and the galaxy kept spinning.

"I've got to go. I'll see you on your next pass?" Kallus asked, the words he used inadvertently causing Zeb’s throat to tighten.

"Of course," Zeb replied without hesitation, even if it was difficult to speak.

The comm buzzed and clicked off and he set the thing down on the counter with a heavy hand.

He went on automatic for a while after that. He finished cleaning up, got dressed, and reheated some waffles to eat for a late dinner. He could be sleeping, but he just had too much on his mind, so he instead poked at the star charts in the cockpit, trying to decide which area to jump to next.

There was a small flash of light across the display of his communications array early into the morning. Incoming holo, the source not from Ahch-to like he might have wished for, but from Lasan.

The hazy blue figure of Chava soon appeared before him on the display platform when he accepted the transmission.

“Garazeb Orrelios! The galaxy-famous lasat answers my call after all!”

“You’ve never called _before_ ,” Zeb pointed out, his mood sour.

“I sense you are troubled, child."

"And how'd you know that? You sense it in the Ashla?" Zeb asked a little more harshly than he really needed, especially talking to a spiritual leader. There were days he trusted in the Ashla, with all his being, but some days it all seemed like a bunch of shavit.

"One does not need the Ashla to tell them that. It's written all over your ears," Chava scolded. If he were there in person, he knew she would be hitting at said ears with her staff. He all but swatted at nothing out of reflex.

“Even if I was troubled, I wouldn’t tell _you_ about it.” Zeb folded his arms across his chest. What was going on with Kallus was a bit too much to unload on the old woman.

“Are you low on resources? It has been over a couple dust seasons,” Chava said and Zeb frowned. Had it really been that long? “Have you found anything important out there in the Unknown Regions that you have not broadcast about maybe?”

“No, I’m not low on resources. And there's no backlog of beasties I haven't shown,” Zeb said. Chava had been the one who had donated the most to his venture into the Unknown Regions. He never knew why she pushed so much, when he hardly knew her. She did remind him of his Gran, though, and maybe that had been enough in the end.

"I'm not talking about beasties!”

“Oh.” Zeb thought of a certain waystation operator. _He_ was something important.

"Something _is_ troubling you, Garazeb. If you cannot speak it to me, then speak it to someone else."

He had no one else, Zeb thought. Beyond extended family, his central clan was all gone. He had friends, old colleagues, but no one else.

"I suspect you have met a lot of interesting _people_ as well as beasties out there, right?" Chava pressed.

"What are you getting at?" Zeb asked, impatient with her already.

"Why don't you come home, Garazeb. I think there are a few lessons I have yet to teach you."

"Lessons? I'm not a student."

"We are always students, child!"

"Not a child either," Zeb grumbled and looked away from the projection. He _did_ miss home. "I'll think about it."

"I'll expect you soon then," Chava said and cut the transmission before he could argue against it anymore.

He thought about it for an hour before he dropped out of hyperspace and entered in the coordinates for home.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I've been home for a couple weeks now. Only meant to stay a few days, but when I got here, Chava was busy and I couldn't get my "lessons" from her right away. So I visited with some old guardsmen friends for a bit. I even got to dust off the old bo-rifle for a bit of sparring. They teased me about going soft but I still held my own. I didn't realize I had become a celebrity even here on Lasan. I got recognized in the market the other day. Bizarre. There's something nice about coming home to that, even if I don't have any close family to be proud of me, it seems all of Lasan is. At least most of the kits. Chava keeps telling me that family is not blood, it's a bond. Our ancestors used to travel and explore with their bondmates, in a bond-crew, even before hyperspace was a thing. I think she's trying to tell me to start one or something. I only think of one person when I think of that. We keep missing each other on comms. Karabast, I miss him. I could just go back. I want to go back.


	15. Chapter 15

Zeb was not listening to Chava prattle on. He was busy admiring the sunrise and the warm colors it filled the horizon with.

Lasan was winding down from the recent dust season, the skies still tinted in hues of gold and yellow, contrasting nicely against the deep greens of the trees. The trader's market they strolled was bustling, lasat and other beings were all eager to sell outside again now that the air was not filled with sand and dust.

It had been nearly 5 weeks since Chava had asked him to come home. It felt longer.

His ear got a forceful _tap_ from Chava's walking staff. "You are not listening!"

"I am!" Zeb lied reflexively.

"Then you agree?" she asked, skeptical. "Now that the dust is over you will go back out there, to where the Ashla leads."

"How can you be sure that's where I should be? That the Unknown Regions is where the Ashla leads me?"

Chava laughed. "That is where the adventure lies, and that is where an adventurer must go. You feel it, I know you do. Long ago, it is said our ancestors were travelers and explorers. Guidesman. Navigators. Walkers of the sea, the sky, the stars themselves."

"You think I'm one of these navigators?" Zeb asked, though it was an old question. He asked it when she first suggested he travel and to document what he found out there.

"Perhaps. You have always had that aura: an honorable warrior, with the heart of a child, but the daringness of a fool." She said the last part like she was scolding him.

"Coulda stopped at warrior," Zeb grumbled. This was not the first time she had said this ‘lesson’ to him. The warrior, the child, the fool.

"But even Guidesman can lose their way. You have felt troubled, yes? As if you sense _something_ approaching."

"Yeah," Zeb agreed. "It's as if all my instincts are warning me of some danger. I can't let myself trust anything."

"Hmm. Your instincts could be a warning of danger _or_ of safety. Tell me, Garazeb, do you know what a lighthouse is?"

Zeb didn't recognize the term right away. He vaguely placed it with the likes of old legends and stories of the oceans and seas.

Chava continued. "It is a beacon for ships with no navigation, a literal warning light for danger. Without them, ships would crash and entire bond-crews would drown in the depths. A lighthouse warns of danger but it also leads to salvation."

"That's why you insisted I come home? To find my way back here, to my beacon, my _lighthouse_ , so that I could find my way again?" That made a small bit of sense to him, actually.

"Lasan is not your lighthouse!”

Oh.

“You are being blinded by your true beacon and not trusting that the light is guiding you.” Chava shook her head and waved her staff in front of him. “You are not listening to the lesson."

"Karabast! Then stop talking in riddles and metaphors and just bloody tell me." Zeb stopped in the middle of the road and threw up his hands in exasperation.

Chava looked just as fed up with him, her green eyes squinting at him tiredly. "I insisted you come home so you could have a better view of things, so you could see your path more clearly. To give you perspective again."

"Okay." Zeb didn't feel any less lost.

"That is all I will say further.” She gave a head nod as if satisfied with the way things were going, even when it clearly wasn’t. “Safe travels, Garazeb!"

“I’m not leaving yet!” Zeb exclaimed, but something inside told him that was a lie.

“Yes you are!” Chava insisted, over her shoulder.

Zeb slumped his shoulders and watched as the old woman walked away and back to the Spiritual Center just on the other side of the market. He guessed the lessons were over.

If coming back to Lasan was supposed to make things clearer, he definitely still felt quite the opposite. It was nice to be amongst his people again, but he did find himself longing for his little adventures. He longed to see new planets, new creatures, new beasties. He also longed for the salty air of Ahch-to and the way the rain tasted on-

His comm stick buzzed and the flashing light indicated his ship was receiving an incoming signal. The _Dansirana_ was too far away from where he was in the Market, so getting back to receive the signal in a timely -and more private- manner wouldn't be feasible. He almost didn't answer, but he had done that enough.

Zeb slipped in between two stalls, near an alleyway of two tall buildings.

"Hello?" He greeted into the end of the cylinder once he was sure he was at least mostly alone.

"Zeb?" A voice that made his heart beat faster came from the comm.

"Kal! We finally caught each other!" Zeb looked at the comm device, wishing it were a holo. He wanted to see him. Suddenly the distance to his ship seemed almost feasible, if he ran fast enough. "What time is it there?"

"Late, I'm afraid," he said, sounding tired. "What about you?"

"Late morning. The shops are just opening up," Zeb replied, looking out to the streets.

"And what Lasan native beastie do you plan to poke and holo about today?" Kallus asked, sounding like he wanted to tease more, but was hesitating.

"You _have_ been watching," Zeb pointed out, elated at the thought. "I hope I've been dashing enough for you."

The light puff of air Zeb heard must have meant Kallus had just chuckled. Zeb smiled fondly. "You are dashing for your fellow lasat as well, I'm sure. No doubt very popular."

"More than I thought I'd be. Sometimes it feels a bit strange to be recognized by people I don't know. I guess I never thought of that when I started broadcasting." Zeb had imagined maybe he would reach a few, but never as many as it seemed he did.

"You broadcast across the entire holonet,” Kallus reminded him. “You’re bound to get all sorts of watchers.”

“Right now only one matters,” Zeb said, realizing he was being sappy. He couldn’t help it, though, not when it had been so long since he had talked to him. “And right now I miss him very much.”

“How much longer are you staying on Lasan?” Kallus asked, not quite acknowledging his blatant flirtations Zeb noticed.

“According to Chava, Lasan is just a _perspective_ and my _lighthouse_ is blinding me, but I need to get back on my _path_!” Zeb said, making sure it sounded grandiose.

“The kriff’s a lighthouse?”

“Too much to explain.” Zeb’s smile grew the more he heard Kallus’ deep voice. He missed his ‘kriff this’ and ‘kriff that’ more than he realized. “But she is convinced my time here is done, and I need to get back out there.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Maybe I just need a bit of convincing, y’know?” Zeb said, hoping to get an enthusiastic response out of Kallus, or at least a cute exasperated one.

"Well, do you _want_ to be out there?" Kallus instead asked, quashing all hopes for distracting banter with an important question.

"Sure. I miss all the new worlds and the new beasties. I don’t _feel_ like my time out there is done.”

“Your fans will be disappointed if you do not keep them up with all your adventures.”

“Funny, I was never lookin’ for fame. I'm not sure I want the recognition so much anymore. I just wanna be -I dunno…"

“You just want to be yourself."

"Yes, but sometimes I wonder who that really is,” Zeb said, the root of a lot of his issues becoming exposed as he admitted that aloud.

"You’re a brave lasat who thrives with adventure. Who loves all creatures, your _beasties_ , even if they want to take a bite out of you. You are an honorable warrior who has had the strength to set aside your weapon… and to show a man he is worth knowing, even after all he has done. _You_ know who you are, Garazeb. And so do I.”

Zeb thought about Chava’s repetitive lessons of the warrior, the child and the fool, and how all three played a part in someone’s aura. So many times those three roles came up in her teachings, so many times she drilled it into his head; and so many times he never thought it applied to him. But wasn’t Kallus also saying he was all of that too?

“Come back.”

Zeb froze, staring at the comm cylinder. Had Kallus just…

“Come back to _me_ , Zeb. I’m -asking you.” Kallus’ voice wavered. “Kriffing hells, I’m sorry I thought I could do this -I’m selfish, but for once I _want_ to be, and I -I’m a kriffing bastard of a man for that, but… come back _for_ me?”

The brick of the wall was cold as Zeb leaned an arm upon it, stunned. So many emotions hit him so suddenly that he couldn’t find the right words to respond to that. All he managed was a weak: “K-Kal…”

“Kriff, I’m sorry, I can’t-” Kallus said curtly before there was a definitive cut to the transmission.

“Wait!” Zeb barked, even though he knew the comm was dead. “Karabast! You insufferable, _grouchy -_ love of my life…”

Zeb jammed his thumb on the reconnect button. Only after the second unsuccessful connection did he realize what he had just muttered; what he had just said aloud. He may have denied it for a time, but it had never been clearer than in that moment. He had nearly convinced himself that he _was_ making do when it had never, _ever_ been true.

He was pretty through with metaphors for the day, but all he could think of was one as he dashed through the market. They weren’t just passing ships in the night, because only one of them was a ship. The other…

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Karabast, I can’t sleep. I should sleep. But I keep thinking… humans accept gifts right? Tokens? In lasat culture, giving someone a crystal can say anything from 'with great thanks' to 'I love you' -depending on the quality and history of the crystal itself. A crystal can be flawed and even cracked, but if it is generational or has history in a bo-rifle or staff, then the meaning behind that will change. A meteorite is kinda like a crystal, right? I passed by a stall in the market, and they _sang_ to me. I know it sounds silly, and the swindling shopkeeper insisted that meant the purchase was destined, but it really did hum and get my attention. It made me think of Kal. The bottom is encased in black obsidian, the meteor itself is gold and yellow, like a full moon during a dust storm. It throws light -it glows- and it’s warm. His hands are always cold. Karabast, it’s sappy but I can’t help it; I want it to be a symbol. I want him to be warm when I’m not there to hold them. I want it to mean what a crystal _can_ mean to a lasat in love, I should have gotten a crystal! Kriff, I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was kinda in a hurry to get back to my ship. I’ll be back to Ahch-to in about a day or so. The path may be long, but it is clear. It has never been more clear.


	16. Chapter 16

“Platform D is free for landing, _Rashkee-thrawn Dancer-anna_.”

Zeb cringed at the pronunciation. Also, who in the blazes was that? That was decidedly _not_ Kallus. He had a core world accent, very similar to Kallus', but it was definitely not him.

Circling around Way One for a landing, Zeb noticed other differences. For one, there were two other ships on the landing platforms, one a familiar VCX model. He also noticed that Platform A was _not_ occupied so he went ahead and landed there. Kallus saved that spot for him, after all. He no longer assumed, he knew.

When he did so, there was a comm ping and the same stranger came back on over the comms, sounding nervous. " _Rashkee-thrawn_ , please advise that is _not_ Platform D, that is in fact A. So if you could-"

"Please advise Way One, that it's _Raskithahn Dansirana_ , and also it's fine. I'm a regular."

"Regardless of that, I'm to leave that Platform open. _No one_ can land there. I have orders."

"They Kallus' orders?"

There was a stretch of silence.

"Can I talk to Kallus?" Zeb pressed.

"Uh -that's not possible at the -he's in a meeting right now," the man said quickly and quietly, whispering in panic. "Can you please just move? He'll be very cross if he finds out I let someone land there. He never lets _anyone_ land there."

Zeb was already powering down his engines, however, and gave a shrug, even though he knew he couldn't see. "Sorry, mate, I'll take full responsibility for it. In fact, I'll be right up there to explain myself."

"You're _what_? No! No no no, now hold on-" Zeb cut the communications array off completely and stood to leave the cockpit.

The weather on Ahch-to was its normal gloomy self, a light mist clinging to his fur as he hurried his way across the platform and to the tower of Way One. He had been thinking on what to say and do the entire way over, unable to sleep and thinking nervously about every possible scenario. Now that he was here, his mind was pretty much blank and all he could focus on was getting up to Kallus, the love of his life. If only he could tell him so properly, face to face.

He was in the turbolift when he realized he had left the meteorite he planned to gift to Kallus back on the ship.

“Karabast!” Zeb considered just pressing the stop button and heading back down to get it, but the lift was already in motion. Too late now, he decided.

When he was prompted to enter in the code for the operations floors, he did so with an unsteady hand. Maybe he should go back down to get the meteorite after all; it would give him time to reign himself in.

It was too late, once again, when the doors opened and he was presented with a changed view of the floor’s space. The main differences were the absence of the bedroom and most of the weapons, the areas converted instead into more work stations and equipment.

The galley table was the same, large but definitely not large enough, as there were seven beings crammed into the circular bench seat. There was the Jedi Kanan Jarrus, with his Padawan Ezra, and the twi'lek pilot to one side. To the other was the older, white haired Jedi with his Padawan, the twin brother of the Princess, and another human man he didn’t recognize. He was dressed much more fancy than the others at the table.

In the center was Kallus; their eyes locked instantly.

Kallus looked shocked, his mouth pressed into a tight line. His arms were already folded across his chest but after a moment they dropped to rest on the table, as if he could push away from it. As it was, he was trapped; three people on either side of him.

An uncharacteristic look of longing and relief softened Kallus' usual pointed scowl.

Zeb couldn’t wait another moment.

He stomped right up to the table, and didn’t let the thing hinder his advance at all as he climbed atop the surface to get to him. Using one hand to support himself at the edge of the table, he reached out and used the other to grip the back of Kallus’ head to draw him into a fierce kiss.

Kallus melted into the union and made a deep noise in the back of his throat. Zeb breathed in sharply through his nose, the taste and smell of his beloved soothing something inside that he didn’t know was crying out. Zeb felt a set of hands cup his jaw, _cold_ fingers tangling into the beard on his cheeks and _pulling_ him further forward. Their kiss deepened that much more, the heat and ardour rising until they both needed to breathe.

When they parted, Zeb gulped for air but still peppered small kisses over his cheeks and jaw and nose, nuzzling their beards together as the human wrapped his arms around what he could for a tight embrace.

Someone cleared their throat, and Zeb remembered that they had quite an audience there at the table. He looked to the side and smirked to the older Jedi with white hair and blue eyes.

“Uh, hiya,” Zeb chuckled in greeting.

“Hello there,” the Jedi said with amusement.

From the other side he heard that Ezra kid sputter, "Whoa whoa wait _what -_ when? _How_?"

“Ezra!” someone hissed.

“ _What_?” Ezra hissed back.

Already Zeb could feel the weight of embarrassment settle onto his shoulders. Kallus gave him a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away. "Zeb, my dear, perhaps you can wait a few minutes for us to finish talking?"

"Heh, yeah. 'Scuse me," he giddily replied and began to clamber backwards and off the table.

He rubbed at the ruffled fur on his neck, glancing away, only to see another shocked human peeking up over the back of a chair at the Waystation controls across the room. That was no doubt the one he had talked to on the comm about the platforms.

Zeb turned back to a flushed Kallus, winked, and sauntered across the room. He could just imagine the blush on Kallus’ face growing and he was eager for a distraction to keep his mind occupied while he was to wait for him and the others to finish whatever it was they were discussing. He plopped himself in the other seat at the Waystation controls and swiveled to look at the dark haired human.

“Hi, I’m Zeb, the one on Platform _A_ ,” he introduced himself with a half wave. The human eyed him with a mix of fear and curiosity.

“I gathered,” he replied and shifted in his chair uncomfortably, looking halfway between offering a handshake or a salute. He ended up just giving a small wave back. “I’m Yogar.”

“So, new guy, eh?” Zeb asked and the young man sat up straight in his chair and tried to look attentive at the controls, even though there were no ships or communications.

“Yes. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t know you and Kallus were uh _-that_ acquainted.” Yogar looked more embarrassed than Kallus had been.

“How long you been here for?” Zeb asked. Kallus hadn’t mentioned that Way One would be getting on more workers. As far as he knew, the planet was so secluded, the need for multiple operators seemed redundant.

“Just over a week. The Republic sent me out as part of the first wave for the Ahch-to expansion. Seems the Jedi want to establish a new base of operations here.” Yogar tilted his head over to the meeting still taking place on the other end of the room. “That’s what they’re talking about. The next wave of construction to expand Way One and start scouting potential islands for a new temple or school.”

Zeb nodded, lost in thought with that new information. He couldn’t help the swell of hope that this was why Kallus felt he could ask him to _come back_. To come back _for him_. With so many changes happening, was he ready for a change himself? Was Kallus ready to start something with him? Was he just as much in love as he was too?

Yogar pressed some buttons and looked busy suddenly, and before Zeb could wonder why he was doing that, he heard the familiar _click-pat_ of Kallus and his cane approaching behind them. He turned in his chair to watch the advance with a set of keen eyes.

Kallus came all the way up to Zeb’s chair until their knees touched and he was looking down adoringly at him. Zeb returned the look with an easy smile of his own.

“Yogar,” Kallus said, without looking over to the other man. His eyes didn’t move from Zeb’s own.

“Y-yessir? I mean -yes?”

“I’m going to end my shift now,” Kallus said simply. Zeb reached up and wrapped a hand around Kallus’ forearm and gave it a light squeeze.

“Of course!” Yogar squeaked.

Zeb and Kallus walked their way over to the lift, the Jedi group still milling about the kitchen and common area, pretending they weren’t looking at them out of the corner of their eyes. The only one who was glaring at them directly was that Ezra kid, his eyes wide and curious.

When the doors shut, Kallus reached over and pressed a button for level 12, only one floor down. Zeb frowned at the choice.

Kallus seemed to read his mind and said, “New living quarters. Same room but we have private bunks that are sequestered with dividers.”

“Nah, we’re going to the _Dansirana_.” Zeb crowded against Kallus purposefully to reach the controls and jammed the button for the ground floor. Then he gripped Kallus by the waist and was sure he was secure and balanced against the lift’s wall before he stole his breath away with another fiery kiss.

It wasn’t a long way to his ship, and it would have been faster had they not stopped once or twice for a respite of affection along the way.

Once they reached his cabin, Zeb stopped to embrace Kallus fully, wrapping his big arms around him in a tight hug. Kallus returned the gesture and made sure their cheeks touched and rubbed in a circular motion. He did the other side before finally pulling back.

“You’re back,” Kallus said, echoing himself from long ago, when they had first started this affair.

“You asked me to,” Zeb replied, remembering what he had said then. He meant it even more this time. “I’ll come… I’ll always come for you.”

Kallus’ eyes were watery and shimmering in the dim lights, but he was smiling; a small but genuine thing that made Zeb’s heart soar. He still couldn’t help but tease.

“Even when you decide to hang up in the middle of me about to confess that to you,” Zeb scolded and Kallus looked away, reticent. “Did you really think I’d turn you down? That I wouldn't come?”

“Kriff, I thought I was being selfish.”

“Kal…” Zeb shook his head, knowing he would need convincing. “Sit on the bed there, I’ve got something to give you.”

Kallus made his way to the large mattress and sat himself on the edge, placing his cane there next to him very deliberately. Zeb went to the drawer he had stashed the meteorite and pulled it out, the cloth wrapped around it warm.

Zeb went on his haunches in front of Kallus and held the wrapped object out to him. Zeb was nervous, but when he looked into those bright golden eyes, he was brave enough to endure anything.

The human unwrapped the cloth in his lap and revealed the meteorite. A small gasp escaped his parted lips as he held the glowing stone up, the soft cloth draping across his right leg. “It’s some kind of… meteorite?”

Zeb nodded. “Yeah. You like it?”

“I -Zeb- I love it,” Kallus answered. He turned the stone over in his hands, admiring and studying it carefully.

Zeb was doing some admiring of his own; watching the way Kallus’ honey colored eyes reflected the warm shine of the meteorite's glow. He had never been so sure of anything in his life. Now to just be able to tell _him_ that.

“There’s uh, something else. Me giving this to you, it means something, it _can_ mean something, to a lasat. It’s not a Lasan crystal, I got it on Lasan, but I don’t think that matters. You see, something like this is given as a symbol of a deeper commitment.” Zeb hoped he wasn’t rambling too much. He set his shoulders back and held his head high. “Kallus, I’m-”

The human cut him off, “Alexsandr.”

Zeb felt himself freeze in dread. What did that mean?

Kallus seemed to flounder a moment, seeing his unease. He shook his head and gave Zeb a placating smile. “My first name. It’s Alexsandr. Alexsandr Kallus. If you are going to say what I think you’re saying, I’d like you to use my full name. Please?”

“Yes, but -why didn’t you ever tell me?” Zeb asked, dumbfounded that he didn't know this about the man he loved already. Kallus was silent for a beat, obviously trying to formulate the right words before he spoke.

“I was only ever _Kallus_ for so long. No one in the Empire cared, no one in the Republic really cared. In a way, I _too_ didn’t care. For a long time I didn’t care about anything. Alexsandr Kallus wasn’t worth knowing.” He held the meteorite closer, possessive of it already, it seemed. “But now, Zeb, I want you to know it. Because to you, I’m worth knowing. All you’ve done is show that to me, and now I want you to continue. So… please.”

Zeb never could deny him anything. He actually knew this a long time ago. It didn’t make it any less true. He looked down at the meteorite again, to bolster his courage. “Alexsandr Kallus, this meteorite symbolizes my heart. It’s yours, always has been. I’m asking you to accept it, let it be a light -like you’ve been for me- and let it warm you when you’re cold. I want you to accept this gift as a symbol of my love for you. I love you, Alexsandr.”

When Zeb looked back up to his face, Kallus had his eyes closed, as if he were savoring the words. They opened again a second later. Kallus swallowed and nodded, reaching over for his cane. He held the well-worn rod in front of him and waited until Zeb took it before speaking.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a crystal of my own to give. If I had a bo-rifle, I would remove the crystal from that and give it to you. I hope this will suffice as a substitute,” Kallus said and Zeb shouldn’t have been surprised that Kallus knew the importance of crystal giving. He _had_ studied lasat culture very thoroughly in his past. “Garazeb Orrelios, this cane symbolizes my own heart. I used to regard it as a literal crutch, a hindrance, something I _needed_ but never _wanted_ ; I never asked for it. But now I do. I’m not afraid anymore, not when it’s you -your heart and mine. I want you to accept this as a symbol of my love for you. I love you, Zeb.”

The cane was cool to the touch at first, but the metal absorbed the warmth from his big hands almost instantly. Zeb held it to his chest and, leaning forward on the clear path, he captured Kallus’ lips with his own.

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
Chava was right. Kinda annoying how she usually is.


	17. Chapter 17

Zeb held the holo recorder on his wrist-guard up and aimed it at the cute little snail creatures he had been following around for a while on the edge of the frozen lake of the chilly planet. There was a fine coating of snow covering the area, steamy vents from below making pockets of earthy reds and grey dot the otherwise white landscape.

“This is Garazeb Orrelios, nature explorer and seeker of beasties in the Unknown Regions! Here we have these lil bogans.”

He pointed the device around him, where the squishy creatures were inching their way across the smooth rocks of the terrain near the steam vents.

“They’re prob’ly getting their food from the algae and other slimy substances that gather near these natural vents.”

Zeb crouched low to the ground to give a nice closeup of the snails. A large cluster was gathering near a particularly large vent in the distance.

“There’s so many of them, too! That can be a sign of a spawn season, or possibly that this is a prey species to something… _else_. Something… _bigger_.”

He stopped the frame directly on his companion. The human didn’t look amused with his antics to rouse suspense. Kallus, the love of his life, looked ready for battle.

Kallus was dressed in a green and grey outfit with a black parka that had fluffy, white fur lining the hood. He had his trusted blaster and vibroblade attached to the utility belt soundly secured around his waist. One arm held Zeb’s own bo-rifle in the rifle configuration, the butt end resting against his hip. The other arm was leaning on his trusted cane, which had been modified to hold additional blades and weapons.

Zeb always ran a bit warmer than a human, so his usual short sleeved, khaki jumpsuit did him just fine. He _had_ donned a flashy yellow scarf just to appease the concern that he would get cold out here in the snow. And if Kallus asked him to wear a scarf, he wore a scarf.

“You all know my bond-mate, Alexsandr,” Zeb said with a wry tone, “armed to the teeth for any occasion.”

When Zeb aimed the holo away, Kallus gave him a knowing leer of ‘ _and you love it’_. Oh yeah, he definitely did. This was also why he only needed a scarf to stay warm; it was already getting a bit stuffy.

Zeb swiveled and focused on the large grouping of snails before he got in trouble for kissing and groping his mate during a recording… again.

There was a loud crack of sound and the snails all began to scurry and scatter away, especially at the largest grouping at the edge of the frozen lake. Zeb’s ears pointed forward, alert and seeking the source of the sound.

A few feet away from the biggest steam vent, a rounded head of _something else_ began to emerge from an ice-covered hole of what he guessed to be a dried up steam vent.

Only partially out of the hole, the creature was unmistakable in its shape. It had a bulbous upper ‘body’ with multiple eyes and multiple _legs…_ Karabast! So many _legs…!_

Several of the many _legs_ of the creature reached out and plucked at the dispersing snails, stuffing them into its maw over and over, the _crunch_ of the calcium-rich shells making Zeb shiver.

“Go,” Zeb whispered, and then a tiny bit louder, “we’re going. We’re leaving.”

“Zeb, it’s barely a meter tall. I could take it out from here, if you’re that concerned,” Kallus argued, his deep voice catching the attention of the creature. It looked slow, gorged from snails, but that didn’t stop him from panicking.

“Shh! Karabast, shh! _St-op_!” Zeb hissed, waving his arm out to Kallus.

“What if it’s just curious and misunderstood? I thought you had a love for _all_ your beasties,” Kallus went on, in a voice entirely too mocking and oh so _loud_.

“Nope. I’ve changed my mind. Not those. More than four legs is just… _excessive_!” Zeb was backing up, calculating how fast he could get them back to the ship. Kallus watched him, an exasperated look on his stupid handsome face.

“Where are you going?” Kallus asked.

Then there was a rush of snails skittering all around them and Zeb watched in horror as several more bulbous bodies began to crack through hidden pockets in the ice. Soon, there was a swarm of the spider-like creatures all popping up from the ground to chase and eat at the snails.

“Kriff _me_!” Kallus exclaimed, apparently now sufficiently as freaked out as Zeb was at the sheer amount of them. He began to fire into the feast.

Zeb did care for almost all the beasties and creatures in the galaxy he came across. Not these. Never these. He felt a flash of relief every time Kallus used the bo-rifle to hit true and knock one over dead.

The creatures were not after them, more so their food supply that was running in their direction, but that didn’t stop Zeb from leaping into action for an escape. Kallus seemed to agree with his decision to flee.

“Zeb!” Kallus alerted him.

Zeb turned just in time to catch Kallus’ cane that had been thrown to him. He gripped it solidly in one hand, and scooped Kallus over his shoulder with the other. It all happened as if they had done it a hundred times, despite it being the first.

He ran at full tilt back to the _Dansirana,_ Kallus continuously firing and getting any of the creatures that got too close to them. He knew they _probably_ weren't in too much danger, but one spider was bad enough; add on a few dozen more and Zeb felt he needed to get him and his mate _out of there_ as quickly as possible.

The snow was slippery on some of the smoother stones of the ground, but he never once lost his balance, even with a heavy human draped across one shoulder and lil bogans at his feet.

Just as they approached the ship, Kallus stopped firing, and he realized they had outran the bulk of the swarm. He didn’t let the human down even as he entered the ship and closed the ramp. Both still breathing hard, Zeb didn’t think of setting Kallus back down until the ramp door sealed completely.

He eased his love down with care, depositing both boots on the durasteel floor. Kallus kept a steadying hand on his arm as he started to curse. “Kriffing hell! Those kriffers came out of karking nowhere!”

Kallus accepted his cane back and leaned on it heavily. Zeb nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re not coming back to this planet ever again.”

“Kriffing right!” Kallus buried his head into Zeb’s shoulder in relief. Zeb tilted his head to rub his cheek into the top of his head and wrapped his arms around his mate. The human gave a small chuckle and said, cheekily, “Aren’t you _glad_ I was armed to the teeth this time?”

“I’m always glad, luv,” Zeb replied sweetly, taking the heavy bo-rifle back and setting it on a nearby crate. Now Kallus had a free arm to wrap around his neck and he utilized that advantage to tug Zeb down into a sultry, open-mouthed kiss.

Zeb had Kallus’ legs wrapped around his waist and his back against a wall before he realized he was still recording. Karabast, that was going to need some editing. Also he needed to soothe the petulant look on his love’s face after he had shut the holo recorder down with a guilty, toothy grin.

Good thing he was already getting started with that part, though. He knew just how to get Alexsandr Kallus back on his good side.

And good side he got him. He was a content, warm, thoroughly sated and limp pile of sleepy human by the time he was through, a couple hours later. Zeb had cleaned them both up, taken the _Dansirana_ into high orbit and crawled back into bed with Kallus when his comm began to softly beep and flash.

He stretched across the bed and grabbed the cylinder off its clip, still attached to his discarded clothes on the floor. It was an incoming holo, but he wasn’t near a projector; that was also on the ground with his clothes. He opted to take just the voice comm.

“Hello,” Zeb answered, trying to be as hushed as he could. Kallus stirred and threw a muscular arm around his waist, but otherwise didn’t open his eyes.

“Garazeb! Good morning, child,” came the voice of Chava over the device.

“Not morning here,” Zeb grumbled.

“I need you to come to Ahch-to,” Chava said, all business apparently.

“Why?” This time Kallus was the one who grumbled. His eyes were still closed, his body still curled around Zeb’s, fluffy blankets surrounding him.

“I am here," Chava said, as if that explained everything. "I've collected quite a group. They are not a bond-crew, for sure, but anything is possible if _you_ chose a human as a mate."

Zeb rolled his eyes at the friendly jab. "Quite a group, huh? How many we talking?"

"Oh not many, not many, but we have been doing a lot of _consulting_ with the Jedi. They have some very interesting sacred texts I was able to read, with the help of a nice weequay we met on Batuu."

Zeb raised a brow at that. "The Jedi just _let_ you read the _sacred texts?_ "

"That's why I needed that nice weequay's help." Then she quickly amended, "We cleared all that up though, the Jedi were very nice for letting us _borrow_ the texts. But that's not why I need you here."

"And why do you need us there?" Zeb asked, absently running his free hand through Kallus' messy blond hair.

"I need _both_ of your help as Guidesmen for a most important mission,” she told them.

Zeb turned his head over to look at Kallus, who now had his eyes open. He seemed just as curious as he was about it. Had she just called them _both_ Guidesmen?

“What’s this all ‘bout, Chava?” Zeb demanded, sitting up in bed, Kallus following the motion. They both stared at the comm cylinder.

Chava only laughed, the sound grainy through the speaker. “Just _come back_.”

The comm clicked off and Zeb and Kallus looked at it a moment longer.

"I guess, back to Ahch-to?" Kallus asked him.

"Up to you. You know I'll follow you anywhere, do whatever you ask of me," Zeb said and tossed the comm stick back down to the pile of clothes.

"And I you," Kallus said and kissed his shoulder. His beard tickled at the fine fur there and Zeb relished the feel.

Following each other, in an infinite and trusting trajectory, they traveled into the unknown…

[PERSONAL ENTRY -GARAZEB ORRELIOS- RASKITHAHN DANSIRANA]  
I know it’s been a while, and I know these have been very short these days, but… I cannot _wait_ to talk about all the beasties of Lira San! _We_ cannot wait. I think I can convince Alexsandr to start a journal too --what? You've already got one? He's already got one…


End file.
